


Blood Chains

by Fooeyburr



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (+separately posted NSFW extra scenes), Adventure, Dark Comedy, Family Drama, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mind Games and Power Struggle, Post-Canon, Triangle Bill Cipher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 176,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooeyburr/pseuds/Fooeyburr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bill Cipher is brought back to life and imprisoned as a last hopeless measure to prevent an approaching supernatural disaster, Ford swears to never let his guard down again. For the remaining 26 years of his life, chained to his past tormentor, he would not allow himself so much as to <em>blink</em>.</p><p>However, as the repercussions of his plan begin to come to light, the six-fingered man will soon realize that there are sides to Bill, the world, and himself he'd rather avert his eyes from.</p><p>--</p><p>A mature follow-up, a character study, and an eventual closure set four years after the events depicted in canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entry No. 1 - Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a collaborative work between Riki Riot (Tumblr: Reddobastard), an awesome artist who's in charge of creating art for every chapter, and me (Tumblr: Kindafooey), who takes care of the writing. The concept is entirely Riki's, so if you like the fic, remember to give'em all the love on Tumblr as well! ^^
> 
> Art post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/145222341839/
> 
> Oh, and buckle up, kids. This ride is going to be a wild one.

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 1._

_We’re running out of time._

 

* * *

 

The rainfall was exceptionally heavy for this time of the year, almost ominously so. It hammered the recently renovated roof of the porch so clamorously that it took Soos a good while to distinguish the hasty, repeating knocks on the Mystery Shack’s front door. As he hurried to answer, wondering who it could be at such a late hour, he could hear a grumpy shout familiar enough to make his heart skip in joy:

“Soos, open up, dammit! This damn drencher is washing the features off my face!”

“Dudes!” Soos chirped happily at the sight of the two completely soaked twin brothers. “The door was open, you could’ve just walked in - it’s still your house, after all! Melody is out of town visiting her parents so there’s plenty of space for you to sleep over here, there’s a broken window in the guesthouse I need to fix… Haha, listen to me rambling, it’s so wonderful to see you two! Come on, come on, step right in!”

Ford coughed a little. “Soos, you’re standing in the way”, he noted amiably in his brother’s stead, who was looking exceptionally bad-tempered today.

“Oh, right! Sorry ‘bout that.” The bearhug Soos attempted to wrap the brothers in as soon as they were inside the house was coldly disregarded as Stan simply marched past him to the living room and slumped on his old chair with a snarl, not even bothering to take off his muddy boots. Ford sighed, gave Soos an apologetic pat on the arm and, after leaving his own shoes and raincoat to the hall, went after his brother.

“Stanley!” he said, crossing his arms strictly. “I know it’s been a rough day, but at least have some basic manners, will you! This is not your house anymore.”

"It’s okay, Mr. Ford”, Soos reassured him, handing both him and Stan a poofy towel. “The Shack is home for you both as much as the two of us. Or… three, give it a few months.” A small smile lit up his slightly concerned expression. It was quite contagious, and the stiff atmosphere loosened a little as Stan clambered up from the chair.

“Yeah, I’ll clean up the mess right away. Uh, sorry about that”, he muttered and directed his slouched steps towards the broom closet upstairs (yet still not bothering to take off his shoes, leaving another trail of mud for himself to clean after).

Ford turned to Soos, his expression bleakened again. “I hope our surprise visit won’t cause you too much trouble. We… lost Stan-O-War II today. As you can see, Stanley isn’t taking it very well.”

“Oh, dudes…” Soos took off his fez. “I’m so sorry to hear that. What happened? The weather’s been pretty bad lately, but not bad enough to sink a ship… right?”

Ford gazed out of the window into the pouring darkness. “Yes… right. It took a little more than the weather to bring down that old fellow.” He wouldn’t explain any further, and Soos decided to leave it at that for now. As he headed for the kitchen to prepare his guests some hot chocolate, he couldn’t help but notice that the ever-so-youthful anomaly researcher looked much older than during their last visit.

 

* * *

 

After Stan had finished his attempt of cleaning the carpet (either Ford or Soos would probably have to patch up his work afterwards), the brothers sat down and tried to enjoy Soos’ hospitality, to little avail. The hot drink warmed them up quite a lot, but didn’t do much to the gloomy silence that kept the room in its grip; after a while Soos got up to make beds for the twins upstairs, and Stan proceeded to turn on the TV and stare fixedly at the repeating advertisements of the shopping channel while Ford stood at the window with his hands crossed behind his back, letting out an occasional heavy sigh.

It lasted nearly for a full hour before Stan finally spoke up. “That radar of yours has been awfully quiet today.”

“I turned it off”, Ford answered with a dark expression. “It has little use now that the entire map is flooded with code red. I don’t need a constant reminder of just how bad the situation is.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Yes, Stanley. It’s that bad.”

Another long moment of silence followed. Stan tapped his fingers against the armrest with a deeply furrowed frown. “I bet Rick would know what to do”, he spat out eventually.

Ford turned to him, surprised by his brother’s unexpected proposition. “Sanchez? …Perhaps. Granted, anomalies aren’t his specialty, and I’d rather have someone with knowledge of the local oddities of our Earth and dimension. But I’m sure Rick’s vast knowledge and brilliant mind would be of utmost help.” He nodded. “All right. I will contact him the first thing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Stan looked as though he wasn’t too eager on hearing more of what he often referred to as “nerd talk”, the kind he’d unwillingly been subjected to for countless hours on the Stan-O-War II. He rose up from his chair before it would turn into another of his brother’s parascientific reel-offs.

“I’ll go let Soos know that we’ll be staying a little longer this time. The twins are gonna be here soon, and the guesthouse needs to be patched up. I’ll help him with that as much as my back allows me, so you and Rick can focus on the bigger problems at hand.” He let out a dry snort. “Heh, I wonder how Soos and Melody are gonna take that messy old drunk wandering 'round the house.”

Ford answered him with a short smile. “Well, it’s not like that’d be the strangest thing this place has witnessed.” He turned back to the dark scenery behind the window, disquiet and fright swelling low and heavy in his chest. Before his brother stepped out of the room, he called out for him. “Stanley.”

“Yeah?”

He was silent for a while; one of his six-fingered hands was gripping the other so tight his knuckles were turning white. “If we can’t stop this from advancing further, the entire world will be in danger. It will be worse than anything we’ve seen so far… Worse than Weirdmageddon.” Stan gave a small start at the mention of what had happened four years ago. Even to this day, the freak apocalypse had remained something of a taboo between the two of them. The memory gun incident was still too much to talk about.

Ford turned to face his brother, his eyes dark with weariness. “So I need you to understand that we must avoid this getting out of hand at all costs. If there is a way to stop the worst from happening, we mustn’t hesitate. No matter how irresponsible or dangerous it might seem at first.”

Stan looked at his grave expression and firm stance. He felt like there was something he should be able to read from it, but couldn’t figure it out. “Sure, Poindexter”, he said eventually. “Whatever you say is necessary. I trust your instincts on this one.”

Ford nodded and smiled. “Oh, and Stanley… Once this is over, we’ll build a Stan-O-War III. Bigger and better, with that ridiculous pool extension you always wanted. Even if it’ll reduce the ship’s functionality to a half of what it used to be.”

“Hah, now we’re talking business”, Stan grinned. “You just got my blessing for whatever crazy shenanigans you may have in mind for global damage control. As long as I’m getting that pool, you’re free to knock yourself out for all I care.”

He left, leaving Ford to stand alone in silence only interrupted by the rainfall. But not for long.

As soon as the sound of Stan’s heavy footsteps had disappeared upstairs, Ford walked to the front door, stepped into his boots and headed out, not even bothering to grab his raincoat. He directed his steps towards the woods.

It wasn’t too far from here.

He’d visited the place only once after what had happened, but even in the darkness of the late evening and almost impenetrable downpour, he knew his way there almost instinctively. Through the woods, over the narrow brook, past the thickly growing shrubbery… And there it was.

Stanford Pines stood still. Soaked to the bone, rainwater and drenched curls of silver hair blurring his vision, he stood in front of the triangular stone half buried in the ground, its eye and the hand reaching out left oddly untouched by the moss covering a good half of the rest of it. It was almost like a tombstone… And yet Ford knew its existence signified something entirely different than demise.

_I invoke the ancient power that I may return._

The heavy murmur of rain over him couldn’t subdue the storm of bitter emotions that made Ford’s fists shake and heart clench in his chest.


	2. Arc I | Entry No. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art post for this chapter: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/145622642669/

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 2._

_The wheels are beginning to turn._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper smiled as the familiar welcome sign flashed past the bus window. In spite of being continuously ridden with weirdness-induced incidents and having even survived Weirdmageddon itself, the town has barely changed at all during the four years since their first visit. Good old Gravity Falls.

Perhaps that's why he could feel something was off the moment he stepped out of the bus with his sister.

"All right!" Mabel yelped and shot her fist in the air. "Summer, this time you're in for a big one."

"You say that every year." Dipper looked around, scratching his head. "Hey, don't you find it a bit odd that no one came to pick us up?"

"What, you mean there's no welcoming parade for Mabel? That _is_ a bit odd."

"I meant our great uncles, Grunkle Stan especially. Remember last year when he jumped the bus while it was still moving?”

“Uh-huh. But the year before he tried to scare us, so maybe he’s…  Nope.” After confirming there really was no jumpscare hiding in the nearby bushes, they shrugged and started walking to the Shack on their own.

"What could be keeping them so busy?"

"They might be preparing a surprise party", Mabel suggested hopefully. "Or maybe it's time for Melody's baby shower? Ooh, how about both? With karaoke from atop the roof!"

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Sure, that's... one possibility."

The walk to the Shack was a short one, and there were no signs of tourist groups heading the same way. Back in Grunkle Stan's days, the tourist trap was in business seven days a week, but the new Mr. Mystery had recently cut some slack on the opening hours. Dipper knew this, but the quiet front yard still felt weird. Well, weirder than usual.

"Seems like they've gotten some work done on the guesthouse", he noted, pointing at the tools and building gear scattered around the small hut located right next to the main building. Soos had started building it two years ago when it had become apparent having six people under the same roof with limited space would only result in constant and, over the course of summer, increasingly fiery clashes between both pairs of twins, especially the elder one. "I'm already forced to spend most of my time in a cramped boat with this unbearable dork", Stan had jerked out gruffly during their first return visit from the sea. "I'm an old man with a big ego. We need more space, dammit."

The house had still been under construction the previous year, but now it was starting to look like Grunkle Stan and his ego would finally have the room for themselves.

Mabel rubbed her hands together as they approached the back door. "You ready, bro-bro?" she whispered. "Prepare to spend the next day coughing confetti out of your lungs!"

"Mabel, I don't think they're really -"

"SURPRISE!" True enough, there was a festive shout, but it had come from the same mouth that now crumbled in disappointment at the absence of a reply. "Aw..."

Dipper knew he shouldn't be confused by his sister's shenanigans at this point, but he still spread his arms with a frown. "What's the point of surprising people who are supposed to surprise you?"

Mabel shrugged a bit sadly. "I wanted to join in on the fun the moment it -"

"Jesus fuck, kids, pi-pipe down a little, will ya? It's ten in the morning, you'll cause one of us gramps a heart attack!"

"Whoa!" The twins took a simultaneous step back at the sight of a strange man suddenly leaning on the kitchen's doorcase. With his spiky bluish hair and allround messy looks, a flask in one hand and what seemed to be some kind of a futuristic game console in the other, he looked like the precise definition of out of place. Even in Gravity Falls’ standards.

"W... Who...?" Dipper started, his bewilderment completely justified this time, but was cut off by a familiar raspy grunt.

"Hey, what did I say?" Grunkle Stan was approaching them from the kitchen. "Keep your language in control around these two. They may be reaching me in height, but they're still kids."

The other man snorted, casually wiping a sliver of drool from the corner of his mouth. "Pot, kettle, Stanley. As if _you_ didn't have to watch your t-tongue whether the anklebiters are present or not. I'd wash that filthy sailor mouth myself if y-you -"

"Rick, I swear to _fu_ -"

"Grunkle Stan", Mabel put in with an awkward smile, "I don't mean to interrupt you guys, but I haven't seen you in months and I really need my grunkle hug right away."

"Oh!" Stan seemed to snap out of whatever the uncanny conversation the two were having was about and jumped towards the kids with open arms. "Of course! Come here, sweetie. You too, Nerd Pines 2.0."

"What did you call me?" Dipper snarled, but gladly joined the hearty threeway hug either way.

The man standing in the doorway put on a slant smile. "Seems like sweets and nerds come in p-pairs in your lot."

"Rick, one more word and I'm throwing you out for good."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"So", started Dipper once they have gathered around the table for a brunch (the messy stranger, apparently called Rick, had retreated into a corner and immersed himself into his console game). "How was sailing?"

"Eh, 'twas all right", Stan replied curtly with an impatient swish of his hand. He was clearly avoiding the twins' gaze. "More importantly, what's new in Piedmont? How's the senior year treating ya? Mucked up any nerdy science projects of your brother yet, Mabel? Gotta be careful with that stuff, y'know." He laughed at his own grim humor. He'd been joking about his own screwups a lot during the recent years; it was something of a coping method, albeit one that tended to result in passing awkward silences between him and his brother.

The mood around the kitchen table was equally uncomfortable after his lousy attempt to dodge Dipper’s question. The younger twins gave each other a worried glance. “Grunkle Stan, is everything all right?” Mabel asked cautiously. “Where’s Grunkle Ford? He’s okay, right?”

“Oh, Ford? Yeah, he’s downstairs doing some sorta science thing I don’t care to ask much about. He’s fine – I think he’s even happy he’s finally got something to wreck his oversized brain over.”

Dipper alerted. “Wait, what? Has something happened?”

Stan scratched his temple. “Uh, not that I know of…”

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel said sternly. “If there’s something going on, we need to know.”

There was a sudden, sharp noise behind them as Rick folded his game console in two with a snap. “Look, brats”, he said with a cranky tone while leaning intrusively against the table between the twins, “what your grunkle’s working on in the b-basement is something c-called non’ya.”

Dipper frowned. “Non’ya…?”

“That’s right, non’ya _business_. H-h-he’s inventing a pair of space travel boxers. They take your ass to s-space. Exclusively. It’s the greatest development of mankind s-since the invention of a spork. It’s the only way to get a moment of p-peace around here, b-because right now you’re being an immense pain in -“

“That’s enough, Sanchez”, Stan snapped. “Get out. Now.” Rick presented him with a gesture Dipper was glad to not know the meaning of before marching out of the kitchen.

“Grunkle Stan, who is this guy?” Dipper asked furiously. “Why is he here?”

Stan leaned back in his chair with a sour face. “Ugh... He’s called Rick Sanchez. An acquaintance of Ford’s from the other side. He’s a drunk piece of bad attitude. Here to help Ford with… something. Not really sure what.” He looked from one twin to another with a serious look on his face. “Look, I promise it’s nothing for you knuckleheads to worry about. Just two nerds catching up and being nerds. Hey, how about you two forget about them and focus on gettin’ your watergun skills back in shape, eh? There’s a revenge to be exacted from last summer, remember?”

“Haha, you bet!” Mabel practically jumped out of her chair, standing with one foot on the table and a fist raised in the air. “This time, victory will be ours!”

Dipper cocked his eyebrow with a smile. There was no way they’d win against a skilled gunman and a former street thug. Unless the grunkles would let them win, which seemed to be the case with every other watergun fight they had engaged in.

Grunkle Stan seemed extremely dodgy with whatever was going on, so Dipper decided to not harass him further for now; it would only make him cranky, which seemed to already be the case to an unusual extent.

He would just have to ask Great uncle Ford himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As he didn’t want to disturb what seemed to be so urgent to Ford and his loudmouth assistant, Dipper decided to simply wait until he’d show up from his basement laboratory. That turned out a more tedious task than he’d expected. He didn’t want to wander too far away from the Shack, and ended up spending the afternoon helping Soos (who returned from his visit to the town center around noon) and Stan with renovating the guesthouse while Mabel got busy with her yearly reunion with Candy and Grenda.

When it was time for dinner and Ford was still nowhere to be seen, both Dipper and Mabel were getting a little worried. Just as Mabel’s frown was starting to fall deep enough for her to start making plans for a laboratory break-in, Rick scurried to the kitchen, chanting “busy, busy, busy” while fetching a platter of sloppily made sandwiches as well as a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He left without a further note, not bothering to respond to Stan’s inquiry as to when his brother would care enough to make an appearance.

Being ignored made Stan even crustier than before, if possible. “Could at least come say hello to the kids. Yeesh.”

Dipper stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the evening, occasionally joining his sister for a game of Clue. He hung back when his sister and Stan eventually called it a night. As his yawns widened with every passing hour, the book he was reading slowly slipped from his grip, and his head found a comfortable spot to lean on in the dip of his arms crossed on the table.

When he woke up with a start, it was already past midnight. He sat up straight and rubbed the reddened press mark on his cheek; perhaps it was time to give up and head upstairs. But… no, wait. Did he just hear noise coming from the lab?

It might’ve been due to his sleepiness or his day-long wait to meet his great uncle, but right now giving in to his curiosity didn’t take him more than five seconds of hesitation.

He descended the staircase to the newly built basement that was now a little less ominous than before – not that it wasn’t still ominous, because underground staircases more or less tend to be that way. The door at the end of the stairs was left partially open. He raised his hand to knock, when –

“… _Bill_.”

Wait, what?

Dipper froze in place, unsure if he’d just misheard the last word. But it wasn’t so much the name itself that made his stomach drop – it was the dark, bitter tone of voice he’d only heard his great uncle use at the rare times he’d spoken of…

“Don’t you worry, buddy. It’s t-the same stuff that our mutual friend installed i-in your head decades ago. I-if it managed to keep that little triangle shit out, it sure as hell will k-keep him in.”

And there it was. Dipper clenched his fists. This was bad.

“In that case I will trust you with the task.”

“Yeah. Just like you trusted me b-back then.”

“That… wasn’t really you, and I hadn’t slept in weeks.”

“Wh-whatever you say, big boy. Cheers.”

Suddenly Dipper heard legs of two chairs creak against the stone floor, signaling the two scientists had stood up, evidently preparing to leave. He took a hasty step back, but knew it was too late to escape; all he could do was stand still with a mortified expression on his face as the door opened, and he found himself facing his great uncle.

“Dipper!” said Ford, at first with an astonished smile. “It’s so great to see you! We have a lot to…” His face darkened as soon as it had lit up. “How much… did you hear?”

To Dipper’s relief, his voice wasn’t angry or disappointed; if anything, it was worried… even apologetic.

“I heard enough”, he replied, unsure how to express himself. “You’re… planning something that has to do with Bill, aren’t you? …Great uncle Ford?”

“Oh boy, Fordsy”, he heard Rick say, his words accompanied by a loud burp. “T-this discretion thing of yours went to hell r-real fuckin’ quick.”

Ford stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. “You’d better follow me”, he then said bleakly. Dipper did as told without saying another word.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They walked outside the house in silence. As soon has he’d stepped out of the door, Rick pulled something distantly similar to Ford’s magnet gun from underneath his coat. Dipper flinched instinctively, but calmed down when Ford put his hand on his shoulder. As Rick pointed the gun lazily at empty air and pulled the trigger, a green, spinning vortex appeared a few yards away from them; the spiky-haired scientist stepped nonchalantly over to – no, _into_ – the vortex, grunted “be back soon” without looking over his shoulder and disappeared into the greenness, the strange portal shrinking out of existence after him.

Dipper had no time to recover from the sight before Ford took out a flashlight, gestured him to follow and directed his steps towards the pitch-black woods. They walked in silence; despite the hundreds of questions buzzing in his head, Dipper knew his great uncle had a reason to not give him an explanation right away. Wherever they were headed, he was sure the answers would lie there.

He recognized the tree before Ford had pulled the secret lever – this was the bunker they’d found during their first summer in Gravity Falls. He wondered if the shapeshifter was still sealed in its cage, and shuddered at the memory of their first encounter.

Yet another set of underground stairs led them to the bunker’s dimly lit study, which now looked very different from what it’d been during Dipper’s last visit. The walls were covered in equations, foreboding scripts and patterns, and across the floor there was something painted that looked like an unfinished, rather complicated summoning circle. Spread out in the middle there was an entire new journal filled with sketches of chains and shackles, as well as the very summoning circle half drawn on the floor. With a gulp, Dipper glanced around the dark corners of the room; and what eventually met his eyes made his skin crawl with terror.

There, located the remotest corner, was Bill Cipher – enclosed in stone, exactly as they’ve seen him at his last moments almost four years ago.

Ford, who was standing beside him with hands crossed behind his back, took a step forward. His grim expression made his facial features look sharper than Dipper had ever seen them.

“They are called Blood Chains.”


	3. Arc I | Entry No. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art Post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/146864174854/

* * *

 

_Entry No. 3._

_The truth is out._

 

 

* * *

 

 

_He thinks I’ve lost my mind._

Ford felt a sharp jab in his chest; the fearful disbelief in Dipper’s eyes was practically screaming the words at him. Seeing the usual adoration and trust give way to what must’ve felt like a world-shattering denial hurt him just as much, but he remained stern. He had to.

“You’re… going to bring Bill back?” he heard his nephew ask with a quiet, blank voice. “That’s… that’s insane.”

Ford sighed. “I know. I know that’s how it must appear to you, but I need you to hear me out before making any hasty conclusions. There is a lot you don’t know yet, of both the resurrection and the circumstances that have turned it into an unpleasant yet absolute necessity. Will you let me explain?”

“I, uh, well… I will, of course, but…” Dipper bit his lip. “Great uncle Ford, to be honest… I can’t even imagine a reason pressing enough to go through with it.” His gaze wandered back to the Bill statue, and he couldn’t help but cringe at how polished it looked. His great uncle must’ve been preparing for this for several weeks already. “And I can’t help but wonder… if the one making hasty conclusions is… you.”

If the earlier look on Dipper’s face had made Ford slightly uncomfortable, what he was met with now as he turned to face him was nearly enough to crush his resolve: it was a mixture of disillusionment and defiance, clear signs of a state of initial shock that had sprouted from something other than reason, something Ford couldn’t quite place but recognized as strangely familiar.

“Dipper”, Ford said slowly with a frown, “do you think I _want_ to do this? Do you really think that I haven’t spent all of my spare time in hopes of finding another solution for the last eight months? That I haven’t considered every other option I could find or think of, even those that I hardly know nothing of and could bring about an even greater danger than Bill? That every time I come across yet another omen of the disaster that’s hanging over us, I don’t look the other way and pray it was nothing more than a moment of paranoia, a delusion of a tired mind? That I wasn’t secretly grateful for every single time Stanley laughed at my face and mocked me for my increasing distress, calling me ‘the senile lord of the tinfoil hats’ and whatnot - until the day the Stan-O-War II ended up in splinters at the bottom of the ocean, and even my heedless brother could no longer deny that my worst fears were _very_ much turning into reality that will tear our world apart if we don’t do everything in our power, no matter how foul or dangerous, to stop it from happening?”

He was suddenly startled out of whatever state of agitation he’d submerged in by the notion of how high the volume of his voice had unwittingly slipped. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair in a disarming manner. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“N-no, it’s okay.” Dipper hung his head; by now, he seemed more discouraged than doubtful. “Same for me, I didn’t want to imply that you… Wait, did something happen to the Stan-O-War II?”

“Well, 'something happened’ is a rather mild way to put it…” Ford said, crossing his arms. “As I said, it’s in splinters in the ocean’s depths. There is no way to retrieve it. We barely made it to safety ourselves.”

“What happened? Were you attacked by someone or… something?”

Ford let out another heavy sigh. “ I guess I should say yes to both… although it’s slightly more complicated than that.” He gestured at the chair next to his work desk with a small smile. “Please, take a seat. I need to start from the beginning, and it may take a while. Would you like coffee? It’s very late, and I think I still have some instant powder left in my emergency storages. I have used plenty myself during my time here preparing for… well, you know what, and I can assure you it’s in perfect drinking condition… save for a slight tang of rosehip, which I hope you won’t mind.”

“Uh, sure, of course not. Yeah, coffee would be great”, Dipper nodded and sat down while Ford burrowed through his storages in search of his 30-something year old tanged coffee. He wasn’t feeling particularly tired with countless thoughts and questions keeping his mind on edge, but it would be rude to decline the offer, and he felt like he’d already crossed a line just a while ago.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Well then… Knowing it’s you, I’m sure you have seen the news.”

“The news?” Dipper repeated, watching as Ford placed several newspaper articles on the desk, all featuring heavily zoomed pictures of the sky. At a first glance there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary, save for a few thin and peculiarly multicolored clouds - except that with a closer look, they didn’t so much resemble clouds as strange, small fractures across the flat blue surface, almost as if…

“Oh, right!” Dipper exclaimed as he suddenly recognized one of the pictures. “The gash in the sky. I’ve heard of it, but I thought it was just a singular occasion that could be easily explained as a mirage of some kind. I… didn’t know there were so many.”

Ford sat down next to him, facing him with a serious look. “That’s correct. These gashes, as you aptly called them, have been appearing all across the globe. Now, don’t they remind you of something? Look closely.”

Dipper didn’t really need to be specifically told to do that. His widened eyes were already fixed on one of the pictures he hadn’t seen before; it was the sharpest zoom available, and the wiggling, almost psychedelically distorted color scheme was one Dipper had seen in the past, and would never forget. “Oh no…. _Oh no_. The interdimensional rift.”

“Yes.”

Dipper was pale. “Great uncle Ford, is… is Weirdmageddon -”

“Slow down, Dipper”, Ford interrupted him, “it hasn’t come to that yet. However…” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment to weigh how much he should tell his nephew without causing unnecessary panic. He decided it’d be wisest to hold nothing back at this point.

“Weirdmageddon was… under control, in a sense. Granted, the only control it was under was that of an insane, whimsical tyrant, but at the time Bill was the ringleader above all whose power his underlings would not question. If… If we can’t stop what’s happening now, it will be worse… so much worse. The nightmare abominations will run rampant, and there will be no other reign than that of terror.”

Dead silence fell in the bunker after his grim statement. For a long while, both stared into their empty coffee mugs without saying a word.

“I assume you gathered from earlier that the current threat is indeed similar to Weirdmageddon”, Ford continued eventually. “The Nightmare Realm is slowly leaking into our dimension. Last time the breach was confined to Gravity Falls due to the natural weirdness-attracting magnetism of this area. As it turns out, the reason behind said magnetism was the presence of Bill Cipher that had lasted for several millennia. The only explanation to what’s happening now is that Bill’s banishment caused the magnetic effect to reverse rapidly in a spiraling manner, and as a result, the last remnants of the interdimensional rift were hurled all across the globe just before it sealed itself away.”

Dipper nodded. “I see.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, getting to the core of the phenomenon itself was undeniably prodding at his curiosity. “So using the terms of physics, it’s like mass and gravitation, right?”

“Yes, exactly”, Ford confirmed, evidently glad that the boy could follow. “Weirdness attracts weirdness, and the more intense it is, the more weirdness it’ll gather around, creating exponentially growing weirdness centroids. That’s precisely what has caused the interdimensional gashes to appear. An unfortunate encounter upon such a centroid is what caused the Stan-o-War’s downfall.”

Dipper gulped. “So were you attacked, or…?”

“Well…” Ford’s frown deepened. “Yes, technically it was nothing more than a very persistent maritime anomaly. However, once we happened upon a weirdness centroid, it went… out of control. During Weirdmageddon, did you ever come into contact with one of Bill’s bubbles of pure insanity?”

“Oh man…” Dipper shuddered at the memory. Sometimes he would still wake up in the dead of night with a sudden craving for seeds and worms. “Yeah. I did.”

“I see. In that case I’m sure you’ll understand what we went through at the time. All of a sudden the ocean had several minds of its own, dolphins were growing limbs in spontaneous places, and the only reason we were saved was because the anomaly we were dealing with was convinced it was allergic to human hair. It only lasted for two, three minutes, but… The ship could only handle so much.”

“Now I get what was so off with Grunkle Stan”, Dipper muttered, and received a nod as a response.

“He hasn’t quite been himself since. He is making slow progress, though - lately he’s been busy making plans for the Stan-o-War III.”

After sharing a tame smile, both turned to face the stony relic in the corner, a seemingly harmless reminder of what had originally set this all in motion.

“So what will happen… after Bill is resurrected?” Dipper asked cautiously after a moment of silence.

Ford stood up. “Dipper, you seem to be forgetting that what we’re attempting to do isn’t simply a resurrection, but rather… a restrainment.” He went to fetch the journal placed in the middle of the unfinished summoning circle, and laid it down on the desk for Dipper to investigate. “This is the key to our plan. Blood Chains. It’s a spell that will bind Bill to me. His freedom will be limited to my will, and he won’t have access to his powers without my permission. He’ll be subjugated completely under my control. With his knowledge and abilities in our hands, we’ll be able to stop this. It’s our only chance.”

“Whoa… Hang on…” Dipper kneaded his temples. “Great uncle Ford, that’s… You mean he’ll be bound to you for… how long exactly?”

“Well”, Ford hummed nonchalantly, straightening his glasses, “the spell will last until the end of my natural life, and according to Bill, I will die of a heart attack at the age of 92, so that makes it…”

“Oh my gosh”, said Dipper, evidently terrified at the thought. “Great uncle Ford, are you serious? Does that mean that from now on, we’ll have to put up with _Bill Cipher_ every time we see you? I-is he going to live here at the Mystery Shack? What if he – what – oh, god.”

Ford smiled a bit sadly. “I know. It’s going to affect all of you as well, and I’m terribly sorry for that… But I’m the only one who can do this. Nobody knows Bill as well as I do.”

Dipper threw a strange glance at him, and suddenly Ford was overwhelmed by the same familiarity he’d felt before when his nephew had first questioned him. And then he realized it hadn’t been the first time - the emotions on Dipper’s face were the same as on the day he had learned of Ford’s shared past with Bill.

Ford sat down and, after a moment of silence, said slowly: “Dipper… You fear my past relationship with Bill will affect the restrictiveness of our bond, don’t you? That I’ll go easy on him just because I used to falsely think of him as my friend?”

“No! No, I - it’s not like that…” Dipper adjusted his cap, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s just… What you said is true, you do know him better than anyone, but… Doesn’t it also go the other way round? He knows _you_ better than anyone. What if he uses that knowledge against you, and, well…”

Ford’s faint smile was unreadable. “So you fear I might fall for his empty flattery again.”

Cringing slightly, Dipper gave up on adjusting the cap and just drew it down to cover his face. “Well… Not exactly, but… I mean, how do you prevent the situation from spiraling into blackmail and manipulation? If he finds out we’re dependent on his powers, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You are right about that”, Ford admitted. “I still haven’t figured out how I should force him to co-operate without letting him in on the true nature of the situation. But there is no time to delay this any further. We’ll simply have to bring him back and improvise… As long as he’s kept in the dark on the truth, there will be plenty of time to explore our options.”

He could see Dipper was still fiddling his cap hesitantly, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Dipper. Have you ever done something that felt like a terrible idea at the time, but in retrospect you’re glad you went through with it?”

“Huh… Well, if it wasn’t for Mabel…” Dipper started and then closed his eyes, grimacing as though in pain. “I was so stupid. If it hadn’t been for Mabel, I… probably would’ve never let Grunkle Stan reactivate the portal. If I’d had my way back then, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh! You might want to rethink that - to be fair, you would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble”, Ford replied with a crooked smile. “Had it not been for my return, Weirdmageddon would’ve never happened in the first place.”

The corners of Dipper’s mouth dropped in an almost comedic manner. “Great uncle Ford…”

Ford laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. Still, it’s true… It all burns down to my weakness and arrogance back when I made the deal with Bill. I am the cause of all this, and I’m also the only one who can bring it all to an end. If this is what it takes to have my atonement, so be it.” He squeezed Dipper’s shoulder assuringly, but his expression was serious.

“Trust me, Dipper”, he said firmly. “This is the only way. And if this goes on long enough, Bill will be resurrected on his own and, no doubt, regain his full abysmal glory in the blink of his all-seeing eye. By binding him to me, we can at least restrain him. The risks are great – probably greater than either of us can imagine at this point – but it’s our best and only chance.”

Dipper drew a deep breath. “All right… But only if you let me help with the preparations. We can do this.”

“Thank you.” With a relieved smile, Ford stood up and began walking around the packed room with his hands crossed behind his back. “From now on, things will start to proceed rather quickly. Rick will be back with the materials tomorrow, after which we will forge the chains and infuse them with my blood. Don’t worry”, he hurried to say as Dipper gave a visible flinch at his words, “the amount it requires is hardly life-threatening. Once the chains are ready, all there is left to do is prepare the summoning circle as well as secure this place properly, seeing that Bill is likely to go rampant the second he realizes what we’ve done, and… Begin the resurrection.”

_Assuming it’ll work, and I’m not just making yet another irredeemable mistake._

After another long moment of silence, he sighed and turned back to Dipper. “It’s very late. We should probably return to the Shack.”

“Oh… Sure.” His suggestion seemed to startle Dipper from whatever deep thoughts he’d submerged in. “Uh, Great uncle Ford?” he then asked cautiously as they were about to head out of the bunker. “I get that you have to bring Bill back in order to stop the apocalypse from happening, save the world and all that. It’s a noble cause, but… When it’s all said and done, what about you? What will happen to you after the threat is gone? I mean, you said that…” He glanced at where the Bill statue was resting against the wall. “You’ll be bound to him for life.”

When he turned his gaze back to Ford, he noticed his great uncle was suddenly looking extremely tired, in a way that wasn’t necessarily connected to the lateness of the hour. Instead of getting a reply, he watched as Ford began rolling up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing scarred skin and - Dipper’s mouth fell open as he could suddenly recognize thin, black lines amongst scars (of which some overlapped with the lines a little too precisely to be mistaken for mere coincidence), almost like… tattoos. As Ford drew the sleeve up to his shoulder, it became clear what - or whom - the inky substance carved into his skin was supposed to depict.

Ford’s eyes were ice-cold as he straightened his sleeve and said quietly: “I am already bound to him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper didn’t get much sleep that night.

As per his great uncle’s demand that he wouldn’t strain himself with having to keep secrets from his twin sister, he told Mabel everything he’d learned the moment she was awake. His happy-go-lucky twin took the big reveal surprisingly well, immediately stating that she trusted Ford’s judgement enough to let him determine whether bringing Bill back was absolutely necessary or not. She was, however, very uncomfortable with the idea of not letting Stan in on Ford’s plans until the resurrection was complete.

“I understand why Grunkle Ford wouldn’t want to get him involved”, she had said with a sad frown. “I mean, Grunkle Stan _is_ a big grouch with a bigger ego and the biggest anger management issues, especially when it comes to triangles with hats. I know he’d just turn this into another fist fight between him and the rest of the world, but… It’s still unfair. It concerns him just as much as the two of us.”

“I know”, Dipper admitted. “But it’s just for a few days, and… he’s going to find out, anyway. This is just to avoid any unnecessary hindrances, and to cushion the blow for him as well. It’ll be easier for him to come to terms with it once what’s done is done.”

Although with a heavy heart, Mabel eventually agreed to keep the plan a secret from Stan unless specifically asked about it.

As Ford had predicted, Rick came back the following afternoon, stepping out of a green vortex just around the same time Melody returned from the trip to her parents. The elder twins’ concerns over how Melody would take the unkempt alcoholic wandering around the house were soon proved needless: within ten minutes of their meeting, they were already bantering like old friends, sometimes cracking jokes crude enough to fly completely over Soos’ head and make poor Ford’s ears turn as pink as cherries.

After dinner, Rick and Ford retreated to the underground lab to work with the extremely rare kind of metal Rick had brought with him. Dipper followed the forging with a keen eye for the first couple of hours - due to the metal’s unique properties, the melting process required a lot of time and utmost precision with the chemicals used - but the previous night’s insomnia eventually forced him to clamber upstairs and throw himself on his bed, where he instantly fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. When he woke up early in the morning, he found Mabel already awake, staring out of the window and clearly bothered by something.

“I had to avoid Grunkle Stan all day”, she muttered. “The old nerds were one thing, but now even _you_ are acting suspiciously, and… he knows something’s up. I don’t like this, Dipper. I don’t like this at all.”

Dipper sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to not look too suspicious from now on.”

In the kitchen they were welcomed by Ford, who looked exhausted and slightly paler than usual but gave them an encouraging smile and a thumbs up when Stan wasn’t looking. Rick had passed out on Stan’s personal chair with an empty flask in his hand.

After Stan had gone to the back porch for a smoke, Ford gave Dipper a stern look and uttered one word: “Tonight.”

Dipper gulped and nodded. When he went to the bathroom to wash his teeth, his face was almost as ashen as Ford’s.

Concentrating on anything else was impossible, so he spent the entire afternoon in the bunker, reading a single page of his mystery novel over and over again while his thoughts were racing in the events of four years ago. Regardless of how unwavering his trust towards his great uncle was, the memory of gigantic fingers crushing his ribs while a loud nasal voice was counting seconds to his sister’s death made his hands tremble and his forehead dampen with cold sweat. His gaze kept flickering towards the corner where the statue of Bill Cipher lay, and the thought of how easy it would be to break off its outreached arm kept running through his head on endless repeat.

His panicking mind entertained the thought for several hours, but he never moved an inch from his chair until Ford came to invite him for dinner.

“Are you nervous?” his great uncle asked him amiably as they walked back to the Shack.

Dipper let out a stifled laugh. “Yeah. You?”

There was no answer.

At the dinner table, Dipper tried his very best to stay true to his promise to be as unsuspicious as he could, but his forced talkativeness seemed to only starken the contrast between his side of the table and the other, which was occupied by Ford, Rick, Mabel - and an oppressive silence. This time he, too, noticed the side glances Stan was throwing at his brother every few minutes, and wordlessly pleaded Mabel for a distraction, but she looked determinedly away every time their eyes met. If there was anything Mabel hated above all, it was being forced to lie.

Dipper was equally glad and terrified when the dinner was over, and Ford invited him with a small gesture to join him and Rick in the laboratory.

The chains, now fully forged and ready, didn’t look like much to him: they were small and lightweight enough to be held in Ford’s palm, specifically customized for the size of Bill’s arms and legs, glowing and dyed in deep crimson color. They packed the chains along with other supplies without saying a word and slipped out of the back door unnoticed while Stan, Soos and Melody were busy discussing the guesthouse renovation in the living room.

The silence remained unbroken even when they descended the hidden stairs to the bunker. They had to install padlocks and bolts on all movables in the very likely case Bill would start an uproar the first thing after having been brought back. While Dipper grabbed the screwdriver, Rick leaned towards Ford and muttered to him so the teen wouldn’t hear:

“If t-this goes to hell, I’m gonna grab my family and bail. The mess is yours t-to deal with if you fuck this up.”

The other’s reply came hoarse, but firm. “I know.”

Once they were done securing the furniture, Ford knelt down in the middle of the room to finish the summoning circle. Rick dropped the box of supplies on the floor and proceeded to pat Dipper’s back rather roughly.

“Chin up, kid”, he said, taking a sip from his flask. “P-probably seems crazy to you, but I’ve seen worse. And that geezer over there might be t-the n-nerdiest piece of fine ass there is, but f-fuck if he hasn’t earned my full respect over the course. And t-that’s sayin’ something.”

Dipper was a little taken aback by the jerkish scientist’s unexpected words of encouragement, but nodded firmly. “I know. If there’s anyone in this dimension or the next one who can pull this off…”

Rick flashed him a grin. “Attaboy.”

Their attention was caught by an almost painedly heavy sigh from the middle of the room. Ford had carried the Bill statue to the middle of the summoning circle and was now leaning against one arm almost as though he’d hurt himself, unable to get on his feet. Dipper took a step forward, thinking something was wrong, when Ford turned to him without standing up.

“It’s done”, he said with a weak smile. “This is it.” Seeing the look in his eyes made Dipper shiver - he looked at least ten years older than usual. “Better just get this over with. Dipper, would you be so kind and recite the spell with me? Not that it’s necessary, but… it would be quite encouraging to have someone by my side.”

“O-of course.” Dipper hurried to kneel down next to him. The journal was open before them, the spell written across the bottom of the pages. It was relatively short, and after reading through it in his mind for a few times, Dipper had fully memorized it. “I’m ready.” He turned to look at the man beside him. “Great uncle Ford… Are you sure this will work?”

Ford’s eyes looked glazed; he was even paler than in the morning. “The truth be told…” No, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But there was no turning back now. “I didn’t think we would ever get this far.” He drew a deep breath and fixed his gaze on the one-eyed statue before him.

“Let’s do it.”

Dipper nodded.

“Knock yourself out, Sixer”, they could hear Rick wish languidly from the back before beginning the united recitation.

As soon as they’d made it to the end, the summoning circle was set ablaze with a blinding glow. Both Dipper and Ford shifted their eyes to the statue, whose stony surface was slowly beginning to flake off, baring a glint of gold -

“What the _hell_ is going on down here? _Poindexter_!”

They both flinched violently and turned around as Stan’s angry roar echoed from the staircase. It only took seconds for Ford’s twin brother to storm in, accompanied by a teary-eyed Mabel.

“I’m sorry, Dipper”, she sobbed. “He asked me… I had to tell him.”

“Ford, you damn _idiot_!” Stan yelled, shaking with fury. “What the hell is this? _Bill fucking Cipher_? That’s your solution? Did the seawater mess up your head for good?”

“Ah-ah, Stanley, n-not in front of -” Rick started with a mocking smile, but was silenced in an instant.

“You shut your goddamn mouth and stay out of this, Sanchez!”

“W-whoa there, big boy.”

“Stanley!” Ford retorted, raising his voice to match his brother’s. “Enough! It’s too late. I will explain everything later, just -”

“Like _hell_ I’ll calm down! Let me go, Mabel, I’ll coldcock the triangle bastard before he can -”

“Grunkle Stan, no! _Please_!”

“Y-yeah, your 'lovable jerk' act doesn't -”

“ _Not now_ , Rick!”

"That's what I was saying, dipshit!"

“ _EVERYONE, STAND BACK!”_

At Ford’s thundering shout, silence finally fell into the room - silence that allowed everyone present to hear the quiet rattling of the chains around Bill Cipher’s trembling hands.

Bill stood completely still, surrounded by bits and pieces of stones and the summoning circle still glowing faintly on the floor. His eye was wide, pupil reduced to a barely visible slit; his gaze jumping feverishly from one crimson shackle around his furiously shaking wrist to another.

Slowly, the triangle demon lifted his gaze from his hands to the people in the room, and in less than seconds it was glued onto one man in particular. What followed was a shriek piercing enough to make everyone cringe and cover their ears - all except for the one whose name was spat out, every syllable dripping with sheer hatred that would remain carved in his memory for the rest of his days.

“ ** _STANFORD FILBRICK PINES_** _ **!”**_


	4. Arc I | Entry No. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/147300473259/

_Entry No. 4. It is done._

_I have made a terrible mistake. And the price is mine alone to pay._

* * *

”Is someone gonna explain why we’re _still_ standing here? I can’t be the only one who’s done listening to that godawful noise, can I?”

Growling with frustration, Stan slammed his fist into the nearest tree trunk, probably imagining the scarce facial features of a certain triangle demon on its surface. Nobody present was really surprised that the trunk gave in beneath his furious left hook.

“Grunkle Stan, could you stop that?” Dipper huffed, sounding a bit irritated. “The last thing we need right now is another ancient monster throwing a hissy fit and smashing everything around them.”

Rick snorted loudly and made a lousy attempt to cover his huge grin as Stan was left speechless for a moment, thunderstruck by his nephew’s impertinence.

“W… whoa, there!” he eventually uttered, holding his hands up defensively. “Jeez, kid, tone down that cheek a little, will ya? Your parents are gonna forbid you from ever staying here again if you come home with a mouth like that. Seems like your Grunkle’s bad influence is finally kicking in.” For a few seconds he looked like he was actually holding back a smile before blowing his top again. “Which reminds me! You knuckleheads are taking the next bus back to Piedmont. There’s _no way_ I’m gonna let you stay after my idiot brother dragged that miscreation back from hell where it belongs!”

Dipper groaned. “Didn’t you hear what he said? Bill is completely powerless in the physical form he’s trapped in. He’s nothing but a harmless floating triangle who bounces off when he hits a wall, just like the rest of us. He can’t hurt us.”

“Ha! That’s what Ford says, anyway”, Stan retorted. “And him sneaking around with a statue of that isosceles psycho tugged under his arm really doesn’t exactly send his trust points skyrocketing, am I right?”

“He had no choice! You should know the reason for his actions – unlike us, you’ve even seen it with your own eyes! Do you want all of us to share the same fate as the Stan-o-War II?”

“All right, boy, I appreciated that bit of attitude back there, but now you’re crossing a line”, Stan snapped back at him. “You know whose idea it was to follow that sea monster when it let go of the ship? My genius brother’s! Just like every other smart move that has led to this disaster!”

“Well, maybe he could’ve acted on his discoveries sooner and your ship would still be in one piece if _you_ hadn’t berated him every time he –“

“Guys, stop it!” Mabel stepped between them before their snarly exchange could evolve into a full-blown confrontation. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she grabbed Stan’s hand clenched in anger. “Stop talking about Grunkle Ford like he wasn’t… right there…”

While Stan just mumbled something to the effect of “sorry, sweetie” and sourly looked the other way, Dipper and Mabel turned their eyes at their second great uncle slouched down beside a tree trunk a little further apart from the others, head buried in his hands. He looked like a mere ghost of his usual determined self.

It had all come back to him the instant their eyes had met. Every bit of grudge, hatred, disillusionment, fear… and nothing. It was like he’d willingly gulped down a glass of poison and only then realized what he’d done. This… was what the rest of his life would be. Down to his final breath. Who knows… maybe the demon will even drag him down to hell after death. His plan had been to trap Bill and his powers, but in the end… He was the one trapped. Forever.

His words from the past flashed through his mind. _I’ll die before I join you_. Well, this certainly was… _joining him_ … taken to the next level. His entire body shook with nausea and terror at the mere thought of it. Twenty-six years… No. He’d rather die. He’d rather die than spend every moment of his remaining life bound to that…. creature. He couldn’t bear to hear one more second of the horrible screeching reverberating from underground. He’d rather –

He startled a bit as he suddenly noticed a pair of hands on his arms, tugging his hands gently down from covering his face. “Grunkle Ford…?”

“Oh… Mabel”, he muttered and forced a strained smile on his lips, hoping it would distract her a bit from how broken his voice was. “Is everything all right?”

“I was going to ask you that”, his niece answered quietly.

With a single look in her eyes, Ford gave up on his pathetic excuse of a smile. How foolish was he, trying to hide his feelings from Mabel? “I’m sorry, I… don’t feel very well at the moment.”

“If it’s about that grump bro of yours, there’s no need to worry”, the girl said encouragingly. “He’ll come around.”

Something in his chest clenched and he averted his gaze, locking it onto a crumbled pinecone lying on the ground. “No... No, Stanley is right. This was a mistake. I should’ve thought this through, I’m not sure if I can…” He drew a deep breath. Mabel cupped his face and hushed him gently.

“It’s okay.” She stroked his cheek until he’d somewhat regained his composure. “Are you afraid?” She then asked. “Of Bill?”

 _Yes_ , came the answer in his head. “No”, he said. “In his current state, Bill is harmless. I have complete control over him, and that is what frightens me.” All his life he’d been working and dealing with the unpredictable, prepared himself for sudden changes and unexpected deviations; and now his future had been tied down to something that would never change. From now on, he would have to rearrange his life around the sole purpose of keeping Bill in the leash, constantly on the watch as to not let him mess with his head. Endless struggle for domination.

His days of freedom were over.

He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling extremely tired. Tired of all of this. “Mabel, I… I’m afraid of myself. I fear I won’t be able to bear the responsibility I’ve taken on my shoulders. Even without his powers, Bill is… He may be powerless, but that hasn’t changed the fact that I am still weak.”

His eyes flashed open with surprise when he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. “Grunkle Ford, you silly old man, can’t you really see it yourself?” Mabel’s voice sobbed quietly in his ear. “It’s like you don’t even realize how incredibly brave you’ve been all this time… Even now!”

Before he could recover from his astonishment enough to think of a reply, Dipper approached them, awkwardly fiddling his cap in his hands. “When Weirdmageddon began, you told me being a hero means fighting back –“

“ – even when victory seems impossible”, Ford finished his sentence and couldn’t help smiling a little. He was quite proud of that phrase. “I’m glad you still remember it.”

“Are you kidding?” Mabel let out a giggle. “He’s got it printed in golden letters and framed on his nightstand.”

“That’s – well, yeah, it’s true. I’m a dork, okay? I like having something to up my mojo with every morning.”

“You say that, but you still scratched off the encouragement stickers I added.”

Dipper huffed. “Mabel, that is the exact reason why you’re banned from every art gallery we’ve ever been to. There is a time and place for encouragement stickers, you know.”

Ford couldn’t help but chuckle at the twins’ light-hearted bickering. Teenage had taken its toll and they’d grown slightly more apart over the years, but the seamless magic in their communication never seemed to fade away. Perhaps, he thought, he should try to rely more on his own sibling’s support as well – assuming he would ever get Stanley to reconciliate after this mess.

Dipper cleared his throat. “In any case… Great uncle Ford, I’ll admit that I had my doubts when you told me about your plans with Bill. But when I think about it now, it’s really amazing. You knew there were huge risks and ramifications, but you took the chance anyway, no matter how improbable it seemed for you to succeed. You did the right thing for the greater good. I mean… I know I shouldn’t be in awe considering everything you’ve done so far, but… You’re a –”

Ford released one of his arms from the hug and raised it up. “Dipper, please, that’s enough.” His voice was slightly thicker than usual. “What you said means more to me than I can put into words, but now is not the time. I need to stay in control of my emotions.” The screaming had stopped; they would have to descend back to the bunker to check the situation. He smiled warmly at the children. “Thank you. Both of you.” He expected Mabel to take it as a signal to let go of him, but nothing happened.

“Uh, Mabel…? It’s time to, uhm… Could you…” Still no response; the girl kept hugging him like her arms were glued around his torso.

“Need help scratching off a human-sized encouragement sticker?” Dipper asked, rolling his eyes with a slant smile.

“Well… Yes, I would appreciate that.” As if this wasn’t the first time he’d done this, Dipper crouched down to tickle his sister’s sides. It didn’t take many seconds until Mabel released her pincer hold, giggles folding her in two.

“Okay, okay! Sorry, Grunkle Ford… You’re just so comfortable. It’s like hugging a ripped koala bear”, she beamed. Her eyes were slightly red from crying earlier, but she was back to being happy as a bug in a rug.

“Oh… That’s a definition I’ve yet to hear of myself”, Ford laughed. As he stood up and helped Mabel back on her feet, his expression grew serious again. He took a deep breath; the last thing he wanted to do was face Bill again, but for now he simply had to focus on doing what has to be done. “All right. It seems like Stanley and Rick are nowhere to be seen, but we can handle this on our own. Let’s head down, shall we? Stay behind me, just in case.”

 

* * *

 

Bill was lying face down on the floor, completely motionless. He showed no reaction when the sturdy door from the staircase was opened and Ford stepped cautiously in the room, followed by Dipper and Mabel.

The security measures they’d taken with the furniture seemed to have held their ground: the only visible damage they could find as they inspected the room were the narrow but surprisingly deep claw marks scratched on pretty much every non-metallic surface they could find. Apparently Bill was still able to morph the physical body he was trapped in to some extent.

Keeping constant watch on the almost lifeless-looking triangle, careful to position himself between him and the kids, Ford went to the old weapon locker. A look behind the padlocked door revealed not only a plethora of guns both old and futuristic – Stanley had forbidden him from keeping his weapons from alien dimensions around the house after mistaking one for a screwdriver – but also an old, rusty bird cage he’d put there a few weeks ago to wait for this occasion.

After taking out the cage and making sure the weapons were safely locked away again, he turned to the demon on the floor. “He appears to be unconscious. It may be just play-pretend”, he said quietly to the children, “but I need to make sure.” He gritted his teeth. The mere thought of touching his past tormentor made his skin crawl.

He approached the slumped creature slowly and hesitantly knelt beside him. His hand lingered as though kept back by his survival instinct; he huffed heavily and willed it forward. He reached to grab the demon’s cuffed arm, perhaps a little too roughly than necessary. The texture of what he assumed was Bill’s skin felt different than how he remembered it from the times of their partnership, more pulpous and organic, and it emitted a warmth slightly hotter than human body temperature. Interesting. He would have to study the premises of this change later on.

He lifted the hand up a little and let go, and it dropped back on the floor, remaining completely limp the entire time. It provoked no visible reaction whatsoever. Ford’s gaze flickered to Bill’s top hat, which was toppled on the floor a little further ahead and seemed unattached from the demon himself, and he frowned. Bill couldn’t be… Well, of course not, but…

Suddenly his heart sunk. What if this was just an empty vessel, and Bill’s astral form had somehow managed to escape? What if something had gone terribly wrong?

In a state of sudden panic, he grabbed Bill’s triangular body by his sides and lifted him up to face him. Bill’s eye was closed, but when Ford shook him, it suddenly opened with a fierce flash.

“AAAGH!” His chains were instantly lit with a crimson glow as the demon struggled and screamed in the twelve-fingered grip, automatically restraining and completely stopping his movements every time they verged on a direct contact with Ford. It made his desperate strife look glitchy and dyskinetic. “ _NO_! KEEP YOUR SQUISHY MORTAL HANDS AWAY FROM ME!”

Ford grimaced a little from the ear-piercing racket drilling into his head. The crossdimensional echo was gone from Bill’s voice, but the volume was still nearly inhuman. He could restrain the demon’s physical movements up to a complete halt, but it appeared he couldn’t control his vocalizations.

“Believe me”, he said bleakly, his voice just barely carrying over Bill’s constant groans of rage, “right now there is nothing I would prefer more than to keep myself away from you.”

His cold statement was received with a flurry of shrieks in several different alien languages at the same time, none of which required fluency in order to catch the malevolence lying beneath every syllable. With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Ford stood up, holding Bill in his hands as far away from himself as his arms could reach. He made a gesture with his head for the teens watching the demon cautiously to move back to the doorway before heading for the bird cage, deliberately crunching the top hat under his heel on the way.

Bill froze completely at the sight, his otherworldly curses dropping dead for a mere second before he was roughly hurled into the cage, which was locked with a heavy padlock right after him.

“How does it feel?” Ford spat out. The hatred he felt was so intense it burned his throat and made his fists shake. He’d expected this to be more gratifying, but all he could feel was pure, overwhelming spite. “Come on, let me hear it. _How does it feel to be the one in chains_?”

For a moment there was an empty silence between the two. Ford could almost swear he saw visions of his own death stirring in Bill’s widening eye as the demon slowly turned to face him.

Then it began.

 _“ **I**_ **_ןן_ ** **_Iʍ ʇI_ ** **_ן_ ** **_SD ONʎ OʇIU Ǝ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_QɐUIZƂOƆƎɹNU PSƎɹɥS ɟO ɥSƎ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ɟ UPɐ ƎISSNʇ' PɹOɟUɐʇS SƎDIU¡ I_ ** **_ןן_ ** **_Iʍ IUɐɹP Ǝɥʇ ʇSɐ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ODɹP ɟO NIP_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ɟ ƜOɹɟ ɹONʎ Ǝ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_QɐɹƎISƜ ʇɐƎƜ ʇSNI UPɐ UʍOɹP ɹONʎ Ǝ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_Oɥʍ P_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ɹOʍ IU ʇI ɹƎʇɟɐ ƂUIUɹQN ʇI Oʇ Ǝɥʇ ONUPɹƂ¡ I_ ** **_ןן_ ** **_Iʍ ƎʞOɅIU Ǝɥʇ ʇSƎPIɐƎɹP SƎɹɐƜʇɥƂUI ɟO Ǝɥʇ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ɐʇɹOƜ IUPʞ NDOU ɹONʎ UƎʇʇOɹ Ǝ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ʇʇI_ ** **_ן_ ** **_ʇO_ ** **_ן_ ** **_UPɐ ƂIUɹʍ ɹIƎɥʇ IUPSƜ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_IʇNU ƎɹƎɥʇ,S ƂIUɥʇUO ʇɟƎ_ ** **_ן_ ** **_'_ ** _**I**_ **_ןן_ ** **_Iʍ ɥNSɹƆ ONʎ' ɥIS_ ** **_ן_ ** **_OƜƎP ONʎ' ƎIDʍ ONʎ ʇON ɟO ƎƆUƎʇXISƎ_ ** _—“_

“Grunkle Ford, that’s enough!” Ford gave a start as he felt Mabel’s hand grab his. It was like snapping out of a trance. “Let’s get out of here! You don’t need to –”

“No, I do”, he interrupted sternly, having to nearly shout to top Bill’s infuriated shrieking. “I told him to let me hear it, and that’s –“

“No, you don’t!” Dipper joined in. “Let’s go, this is pointless! He’s not even making any sense!”

He wasn’t. Bill hardly ever did. But was there any sense in all of this to begin with?

His thoughts were interrupted by the door to the bunker opening and Rick peeking in, looking cranky as always. “W-what the hell are you still standing there for, Sixfingers? The triangle bitch is locked up, so all is good, right? Get your ass up here, I’m gonna hit the road a-and I want my goodbye kiss from both of you grunks.”

“Oh… You’re leaving already? Well then…” He sighed and turned away from Bill, suddenly a bit puzzled over his earlier insistence on staying. What was there to gain from subjecting himself to the demon’s anger? “Dipper, Mabel, let’s go. He was obviously joking about the kiss”, he then pointed out. The twins nodded, looking a bit relieved, and led him to the staircase.

Before closing the door behind him, he gave a last glance at the demon in the cage, still screaming and clawing at the padlock. The echo cursing his name followed him all the way out of the bunker.

He drew a deep breath as they ascended from the cramped underground room to embrace the chilly outside air. It was already past midnight. Stanley was waiting for them beside the tree, still disgruntled but no longer bristling with rage and swinging his fists around.

“Where were you two all this time?” Mabel asked him with a curious smile.

“Had to calm him down”, answered Rick on Stan’s behalf, grabbing his portal gun from the pocket of his lab coat. “Reminded this little pissbaby how to handle business like a grownup.” Stan crumpled his mouth and looked the other way.

“I couldn’t have done this without your help, Rick”, Ford said with a grave expression, offering his hand. “Once again, I am in your debt.”

“Sure, whatever”, Rick shrugged and swished his hand away. “Just don’t f-fuck this up, Stanford, or the Rickest of Ricks is-a slap your shit.”

Ford almost snorted when the messy scientist dropped a nonchalant beat at the end of his sentence. “I give you my word.”

“You better.” Rick turned to face Stan with a wiggly brow and kissy lips. “This is it, honey. H-how about some sugar before I go, hm?”

“How about you take a hike to hell”, Stan mumbled back, rolling his eyes. “Stuttering freak.”

“Whatever you say, you hunky heap of salt.” Before jumping into the languidly swirling portal, Rick flashed them all a grin. “I’ll s-smell you suckers later.” And with a flash of green, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Stan marched ahead of the rest of the group with his hands shoved into his pockets in a stubborn manner. He refused to utter a single word or even look anywhere near his brother as they made their way back to the Shack. After a few lousy attempts to cheer up the mood, the younger twins eventually gave in to the silence as well. There was no sense of victory in the air. Ford’s steps felt incredibly heavy.

As they arrived to the Shack, they found Melody waiting for their return on the porch. “And here come the Pines!” she said with a tone that was probably meant to sound strict, didn’t really do much to cover her delight. “Soos and I were getting worried, you know. What were you all doing in the woods at this hour? Stan, is something…?” Her soft expression turned a bit puzzled when Stan walked past her towards the guesthouse without saying a word. “Uh-oh… Don’t tell me he managed to sink another ship within one month.”

Normally Ford would’ve laughed – he’d always enjoyed Melody’s simple but incisive sense of humor – but now all he could manage was a dull smile. “I’m terribly sorry to have kept you up so late. I hope we didn’t make Soos sick with worry.”

Melody swished her hand with a smile. “Oh, no, he was distracted by the new baby crib.”

“Oh, I wanna see!” Mabel joined in. “Is it already put together?”

 “Well, yes. He’s sleeping in it.”

The mental image was received with an assortment of snorts and raised eyebrows. “The big day is drawing near, huh?” Mabel then said dreamily. “Excite!”

“Ooh, you can say that again”, The soon-to-be mother nodded with a nervous grin. “Both my bladder and my back will rejoice once this is over.”

Mabel squealed. “Gosh, I can’t bear it, let me touch the source of your misery!”

“Go right ahead!”

Ford smiled, slightly more genuinely this time. “Mabel, while belly hugs are nice at any time of the day, I strongly think Melody should be heading for bed. We’ve kept her waiting for us late enough already.”

“Oho! Now who was the future mom here again?” Melody laughed, but couldn’t hold back a simultaneous yawn. They all agreed on getting some rest and leaving the talks and pregnancy fuss until tomorrow. After wishing Melody and the kids good night, Ford directed his steps towards the guesthouse, fearful of what kind of hell Stanley was waiting to give him.

Instead, he found himself locked out.

He knew he only had himself to blame for the situation, but couldn’t irritation flaming up at the unreasonably proportioned punishment his brother was now putting him through. “Stanley, open the door!” He shouted, knocking fiercely. “I’m sorry for shutting you out of my plans, but this is getting ridiculous! I need a place to sleep!”

He could hear a few heavy footsteps rushing towards him; the lock was turned, and the door was slammed open so violently it almost hit him in the face. “You think this is just about _shutting me out_?” Stanley standing in the doorway in his bathrobe and boxers growled at him, his eyes ablaze. “Here’s a newsflash, brother dear: I don’t give a shit! You think I haven’t gotten used to you _always_ being two steps ahead of me, always planning and arranging future behind my back just because I’m not smart enough to keep up? Oh no, I knew what I signed up for when I brought you back from the portal! After 30 years of work and guilt, mind you!”

“Stanley –“

“No, Ford, I’m used to being left behind! But I’m fine with that! Hell, I’ve spent my whole adult life lying and misleading, so who am I to judge? What _you_ and your enormous brain don’t seem to realize, though, is that bringing that three-sided son of a bitch back to life was the dumbest and worst decision of your life! Not only did you put everyone in danger – doing this while the kids are here, and Melody and Soos are having a _baby_ , for god’s sake – but you also managed to put me back in the place of a screwup where I apparently belong!”

Ford startled. “What? No, lis–“

“I let you erase my memories to get rid of him, Stanford!” Stan roared. “ _I let you kill me for it_! I sacrificed myself to save my family, and the whole world while I was at it! Just for once I didn’t feel completely useless or like I was just fucking everything up even further! I was a hero _– you_ called me one! And then _you_ of all people, you ungrateful bastard – _you_ – after everything I did for you, you have the nerve to step over it like it was nothing, shrug off the only right thing _I_ ever did just to have another merit on the already long list of _yours_! Because _of course_ you always need to be the biggest hero of this family! Me saving the world is _nothing_ compared to when it’s saved by you!”

For a moment he stopped to catch his breath, a rush of adrenaline making his crouched shoulders shake. “Why don’t you go find yourself another place to sleep, Poindexter”, he then spat out, his voice dripping with contempt. “I’m sure a hero like you can stomach a bit of rejection from time to time. All for the greater good, right? Should be a cinch.” He slammed the door to his brother’s face.

Ford stood still, staring blankly ahead. Whatever he’d expected to arise between him and Stanley once the truth was out, it hadn’t been this. _This_ , this was…

This was all ridiculous.

He turned on his heels and marched off, heading towards the Shack. _No._ _I can’t face the kids._ He turned again and, for a moment, considered kicking the door of the guesthouse off its hinges. He cursed. First quietly in his mind, then out loud.

“Damn it… Damn it all to hell!”

 

* * *

 

The bunker’s silence was broken by the heavy metal door being flung open so forcefully that it was slammed against the adjacent wall. Bill’s racket had once again ceased, but this time he appeared to be conscious. He was slumped against his small cage in a strange, contrived position, arms and one leg limply hanging out from between the bars. His surface was covered in rust stains; he must’ve been trashing against the walls of his prison for quite a long time until realizing it was no use or, a much more likely option, simply running out of energy.

The demon’s gaze jumped and sharpened the instant Ford stomped in. The scientist approached him with steady steps. He grabbed the cage with both hands and jerked it roughly up from the floor, giving its grudging resident an unpleasant tumble. Bill glared at him, not moving an even though his position was now starting to look genuinely painful; he glared back, eyes half-lidded and unblinking, devoid of all emotion.

 _Snap._ There was a sharp sound as the crimson shackles appeared to stop the lightning-fast motion Bill’s hands suddenly made towards Ford. Bill was shaking with wrath again. Upon seeing the attempt of an attack stopped midway by the chains, Ford finally broke off their eye contact. Vacantly he let go of the bird cage, and it fell on the floor with a clatter. A small, angry scream escaped the triangle demon as it rolled around sideways for a while, making him tumble along helplessly.

It must’ve hurt. Ford hoped it did.

From his storages he grabbed a 35-year-old bottle of whiskey, a reminder of the heavy drinking habits he’d indulged in to hold onto the last bit of sanity left in him – or perhaps rid himself of it – after Bill’s betrayal. There was no shame in the nostalgic familiarity he felt at the sound of the cap popping off. He didn’t care. He only wanted to wash off the voice of common sense and civility that wouldn’t let him off its aggravating grip… All he longed for was freedom to disregard everything, scorn at the ludicrosity of it all… and to _hate_.

He sat down at his working desk and stared his past tormentor dead in the eye at the first prickly taste of the beverage. He hated him _so much_.

Hatred that equalled his own was the only thing readable from the almost predatory glower Bill was giving him. What else had he expected to be met with upon Bill’s return? An apology? Ha… What a ridiculous idea. Fear? Remorse? This embodiment of nightmares wasn’t probably even capable of such basic emotions. In Bill’s eyes, he was the only one at fault. As though he was the one who was wrong.

He took another long sip. He hated Bill… so much.

Bill had managed to get back on his feet in the toppled cage. His small fingers were gripping the bars as he continued glaring daggers at his capturer. He remained uncannily silent. Ford found a dark hint of delight from the thought of him having lost his voice after hours of mindless screaming.

Another sip, followed by another surge of spite.

The quiet was starting to bother him a bit. Perhaps he would’ve preferred listening to Bill openly berating him than having the phantom of Stanley’s voice spit out accusations at him on endless repeat. At least Bill’s infuriated curses had no truth in them.

Yet another mouthful of vintage whiskey, and he barely noticed the sourness of the drink any longer.

Ludicrous… It was all ludicrous. The world was falling apart, and of course Stanley had to make it about his self-victimization and alpha twin complex. Ford almost felt like laughing. His brother hadn’t given a single thought for _his_ sacrifice, had he?

Another drink… Ludicrous.

His gaze was wavering around the room. Occasionally it happened upon Bill desperately reaching and trying to move the cage towards his considerably damaged hat. The demon’s attempts halted and his hateful glare turned back to Ford at the realization of being watched.

Drink…. hate.

Ford’s head was spinning, his eyes closed. He almost enjoyed the hate boiling in every cell of his body. It was as empowering as it was consuming. It gave him strength, a boost of willpower to conquer the one who had once torn his life down.

…Drink…

He had done the right thing. He wasn’t wrong.

…Dr…in…k…

_He was not wrong._

_…_

* * *

 

“Well, well, well! Aren’t you one hell of a sight!”

Oh… dear _god_.

“Come on, Fordsy, rise and give good ol’ reality a big loving hug! How’s that two-way trip to Forgettown on Self-Loathe Express coming along, hm? Take your time, nice and easy – in fact, why bother! Time won’t make you any less of a disgrace, old friend!”

Bill’s cheerful ridicule was so loud that every syllable seemed to split his throbbing head in half. Ford opened his eyes reluctantly, only to find himself scrambled unrefinedly under his working desk, evidently having passed out at some point last night. Judging from the pulsing pain around his eye, he’d probably hit himself on the corner of the table when he fell over. His throat felt like sandpaper, and it hurt to breathe.

He turned onto his side and saw Bill leaning against his cage in a pose that was more reminiscent of his characteristic smugness than any action he’d portrayed so far. He was sporting his top hat again, although it still looked rather ragged; apparently he’d managed to move the bird cage enough to reach it through the bars.

Ford groaned and sat up arduously, supporting himself on the leg of his chair. It was as though he’d straight up asked his situation to get even worse.

“Feelin’ a little technicolor there, ain’t ya, Sixer?” Bill continued, raising his voice just to rub it in. His mockery sounded even more maniacal than usual. “That measly fleshbag sure doesn’t know how to take a drink, sheesh! And judging from how you practically soaked yourself in it, seems to me whatever your plan with yours truly was didn’t exactly go over as you surmised! Am I right or am I right?”

When he received nothing but a bleak stare from Ford, he shrugged and went on, his tone of voice softening to a more amiable one. “But never fear, my dear, your old pal Bill is here to share his good will and assistance! Tea and sympathy can be worth figurative gold, but giving our history, leaving it at that would be a terrible waste of potential, don’t you think? You and I were always meant to work together, Fordsy. You know the drill! I’m feeling generous today, so all I’m asking is a _teensy little deal_ , and you’ll be –“

His sentence was cut short and ended with a high-pitched shriek as Ford’s hand was suddenly gripping the cage, slamming it violently against the floor. Bound immobile with the chains again, the toppled demon watched with a widened eye as Ford shoved the key in the padlock and opened the cage, grabbed Bill by his bowtie and hurled him out and against the floor with almost the same amount of brutal force and anger.

Ford was shaking furiously, both from his physical condition and the violent outbreak of emotions clouding his ability to think straight. It was Bill, it was to be expected, mockery and flimflam were his game and business, but this… this was too much. He’d gone too far.

“You have no power over me”, he hissed through his teeth, pressing Bill against the floor so hard he could hear the bricks on his back scrape against the floorboards. “Your freedom, your whole existence is entirely submitted to my will. You are weak. You are _nothing_. And the way you are now…” His voice was rumbling almost animalistically low through his sore throat. “I could tear you apart with my bare hands.”

Despite his lack of actual lungs, Bill was wheezing quietly underneath his hand. His pupil was trembling in a strange manner, and Ford didn’t know whether it was yet another symptom of silent fury or because his irony grip was hurting him. He didn’t care.

They stared at each other for what could’ve been hours, both panting heavily, both unmoving. Then Bill half whispered, half growled something he didn’t expect.

“Prove it.”

Ford felt as though all natural warmth had been drained from his body.

Before he could retort, respond or even react, he heard hasty footsteps descending the stairs, and the door flew open.

“Great uncle Ford!” Dipper called out, evidently relieved to have found him. “You weren’t – what… What’s going on?”


	5. Arc I | Entry No. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/148214994509/

_Entry No. 5. The game is on._

_The puppet strings are pulled taut, but this time, I am the one in control. And he will know the name of his master._

 

* * *

 

It was a bizarre scene to walk in on. In the matter of a few seconds, Dipper’s gaze traveled from the dented bird cage to Bill audibly gasping for breath beneath Ford’s rough hold, from the slightly bruised brow of the latter to the toppled glass beside the half empty bottle of whiskey on the desk. His expression flicked between confused to startled, then turned to confusion again.

“Uh, is… is everything okay?” he asked, unsurely. “Are you all right? You’ve got a little something…”

“Yes, Dipper”, answered Ford, unconsciously tightening his grip on Bill’s bowtie and pressing him down even harder. “Everything is under control. I fell and hit myself on the table, that’s all.”

Dipper looked a bit concerned, and his eyes lingered on Bill’s widened eye and fingers curled against the floor in a convulsed manner. “Well, that’s good, but… Great uncle Ford, don’t know if you noticed, but he, uh… He looks like he’s in pain.”

Ford nodded. “Why yes, well, he should be. That was my intention. He needs to know his place.”

“Um, is that really…” His nephew looked even more uncomfortable, but before he could say anything else, Mabel rushed in the room and almost bumped into his brother’s back.

“I told you to _wait_ , Dipper!” she scowled before looking around the bunker. When her eyes met her great uncle’s, she paled immediately. “Gr… Grunkle Ford! What are you – Let him _go_!”

There was something about her voice that made Ford startle a bit and back away from Bill without further ado. The pained whimper Bill let out as he could finally breathe and move again only deepened the shock in Mabel’s expression.

“ _Grunkle Ford_!” she cried out with a mixture of reprehension and alarm. “Can’t you see he’s hurt? Quick, we have to check if he’s all right!”

“Mabel, aren’t you forgetting something here?” Dipper put in with a frown, grabbing his sister by the arm before she could rush forward. “He’s Bill Cipher, remember? The one who stole my body, tried to kill us, tortured Great uncle Ford and almost destroyed the entire universe? I’m sure that kind of a tough guy can handle a few little scratches.”

“That’s not the point!” Mabel snapped back. “He’s tiny and helpless! And just because he was cruel doesn’t mean you have to be as well!”

“Who are you calling tiny and helpless?” Bill croaked from the floor level as he clambered arduously into a sitting position, cringing a bit with his single eye. “Don’t interfere, Shooting Star, your Grunkle and I have a little unfinished man-to-man business to take care of. Better just get it over with, don’tcha think?” He glared daggers at Ford. The old man swallowed down his reawakening antipathy, now mixed with a hint of shame, and looked away. He couldn’t continue this, not with Mabel around.

“Mabel, I understand your concern, but I think Dipper is right”, he tried to appease her, ignoring Bill’s foolhardy challenge for the second time. “Granted, I’m not quite familiar with the attributes of his current physical form yet, but I think it’s safe to assume that its functions differ from those of the human body in a variety of ways. His nervous system being correspondent to ours is very unlikely, and we mustn’t forget whom we’re dealing with, either. For a skilled conman such as him –”

“No, Grunkle Ford”, Mabel interrupted him firmly. “That’s not right, it’s not an excuse. Even if he was just bluffing, you can’t be sure. That’s just not the right thing to do!” The disapproval on her face had softened into a worried frown. “Please, just make sure he’s all right.”

For a moment, Ford’s expression darkened. “Mabel… A chained creature can never be all right. Yet they need to be restrained for the sake of others as well as their own.” He let out a sigh, then smiled. “But I suppose I can check on him.”

“I already told you there’s no need for that, Star”, Bill hissed, now floating just above the floor. “And _you_ can keep your freak hands off – _hey_!” He protested as Ford bent down to pick him up and turned him around, his struggle halted by the chains. There was a barely noticeable jab in his chest as he found visible scratches on Bill’s bricks as well as a slightly dislocated one. Without hesitation, he pushed the protruding corner back into its place roughly enough to earn another gale of alien curses from the demon.

“There”, he said and let go of Bill without a warning, effectively dropping him face down on the floor. “That is all I can manage for now. I hope it’ll do.”

Mabel looked a little happier. “Okay, now let me take care of you”, she said and went to look for a first-aid kit from the storages.

“Thank you”, Ford smiled. “Second row, sixth drawer on the left.”

“So… We heard from Grunkle Stan he threw you out of the guesthouse”, Dipper said, crossing his arms while his sister patched up Ford’s temple. “He admits his reaction was blown out and uncalled for – to say the least, if you ask me – and is willing to reconcile on the condition that we have something he insisted on calling a ‘family intervention’. He wants you to tell Soos and Melody the truth about what’s going on. That’s all.”

“Well, that sounds reasonable”, Ford admitted. “It must be done sooner or later either way. I suppose it’d be best to bring Bill along, too. They need to see his current state with their own eyes.” He turned to Bill, who had managed to clamber back up to his feet. “We’re going to head out. Will you behave?”

The demon’s voice was dripping with venom as he spat out his response. “Let’s say _I’ll give it my best shot_.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, well!” Bill suddenly piped up as the Mystery Shack slid into their vision from behind the treeline. “If it isn’t the same old hut you built in my honor all those years ago! ‘My home is my castle’, isn’t that what all the desperate housewives say to make up for their lack of freedom? Oh well, good to know you’re still maintaining the fruit of our peaceful coexistence, Fordsy!”

“Desperate housewives? You’ll have to try harder than that to properly insult me”, Ford threw back indifferently. He’d already lost his temper once for the morning, and petty remarks about the Shack were among the least of his worries. “Besides, the house is no longer mine. Hasn’t been in over 30 years, as I’m sure you’re aware of.”

Bill swished his hand. “Pfft. I don’t care about your loose definitions of ownership, bud. I saw you pour your heart and soul into building this place as a tribute to yours truly, and that’s all the confirmation I need. Know what, maybe the house actually owns you and not the other w- _what the hell is that_?”

His screech was so abrupt that it would’ve probably caused Ford to flare up if he wasn’t in such a bad mood already. Nevertheless, it took him some time to figure out what the triangle was so furiously pointing at. “Oh, you mean the guesthouse? Well, the Shack was running out of space with all of us gathered and –“

“It’s _ugly_ and needs to be demolished _right this precise instant_! Who’s responsible for this fashion crime? Don’t you have _any_ taste whatsoever? This is an insult to the fine art of architecture! A cacophony to the eye!”

Ford raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “A cacophony? I thought you’d have an affinity for something like that.”

“Not when this… _square_ is invading my personal space I don’t!”

Oh. So Bill likened something built in his honor to his own ego. Ford scoffed. “Well, if you hate it so much, perhaps I should make you accommodate it for the time being.”

Bill didn’t seem to particularly like the idea. “ _Never_! I’ll set the entire world on fire before setting my foot in that abomination trespassing every law of harmony and common sense!”

Harmony and common sense _._ Well. That was a set of words Ford thought he’d never hear from Bill. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve done enough setting the world on fire for one lifetime.”

“Yeah, right. For one _lifetime_ , hah…" This time it was Bill’s turn to scoff with his arms crossed like a stubborn child. "...in _this_ timeline, in _this_ universe... You, my little mortal friend, have _no idea_.”

His quietly muttered condescension didn’t do much to shake Ford. “We’ll see about that.”

Stan was waiting for them at the back porch. He persisted on averting his eyes from his brother, but his shoulders and posture were slumped, which was as close to a nonverbal admission of remorse as he could probably manage at this point. At least he was no longer so eager to tell Ford where exactly to shove his plans with Bill like he’d been the night before.

When his eyes eventually met the condition Ford was in, however, he couldn’t seem to resist a bit of snark. “Whoa, look at you! Kids, go get my baseball bat, it’s the night of the living dead all over again. Sheesh, Ford, dunno if you happened to look in the mirror this morning, but you’re a mess. Haven’t seen you this under the weather since -”

One sharp glance from Ford’s slightly bloodshot eyes was enough to shut him up, which was a considerably rare occasion to witness. He realized himself it was probably not the best time to remind him of the last time he’d had to resort to drinking. The amount of empty bottles Stan had found lying around the house after the portal incident still made him shudder.

He shrugged and changed the topic, yet unable to keep the snark out of this one, either. “And you just had to drag the one-eyed bastard along”, he said, giving a sour look at the triangle demon floating in Ford’s wake.

Bill returned his gaze with an equal amount of derision. “Hiya there, Finger Guns. How’s the mind holding up? Keepin’ it simple, I presume? Ha, that old thing probably takes care of itself! Give it some time, and it’ll be spotless and sparkly clean with no effort whatsoever! A method 100% free of bleach and other additives with a money back guarantee, if you may!”

Stan made a grimace as though he’d just stepped into something obscure and nasty. “Good lord… Please tell me you at least installed a mute button for this bullcrap.”

“I thought the whole point of this intervention was to introduce him to Soos and Melody”, Ford noted with a frown, ignoring Stan’s jab while quietly hoping he could answer with a simple “yes”.

“Nah, the point is to drill into your thick skull how terrible this idea of yours was to begin with”, Stan retorted, but was stopped by two hands firmly grabbing his cheeks and lifting them up.

“Not another word of that again, Grunkle Stan”, Mabel warned him. “You had plenty of grumpy time for yourself yesterday, now it’s time to turn that frown upside down and get gung ho!”

“Ehm, I like the sound of that, sweetie, but you’re hurting your favorite grunkle.”

“Shush! There are no favorites in the world of Mabel. Except with gummy bears. Green all the way.”

As should’ve been expected by this point, Bill couldn’t stop himself from chiming in again. “Oho! Which brings to mind, how’s that pig of yours doing, Shooting Star?”

“Oh, Waddles?” Mabel let go of Stan’s face, much to the latter’s relief, to turn to look at Bill with an expression of mixed suspicion and delight. “He’s great, both literally and figuratively! He’s too big to fit in the bus anymore, but you guys can say hi over the video chat if you want. I call him every night.”

Ford was starting to feel like he should interrupt the seemingly innocent conversation taking place; he was fairly sure Bill had no interest in greeting Mabel’s pig over the internet. His fears were confirmed as soon as Bill spoke up again. “Heh, sure, why not! And if _you_ want, I can let you in on a _very special ingredient_ used in the production of gummy –“

“Hold the hell up!” Stan roared just as Ford was about to step in, which his brother then proceeded to also do on his behalf by grabbing the triangle by his bowtie. “Now listen here, you crude son of a bitch. Since my brother can’t seem to make you shut your damn yaps, I’ll just have to remind you that I have no problem shutting them for good myself. And if I catch you harassing the kids, Soos, Melody or anyone in this house ever again, I’m gonna fold you into a whole new shape and use you as a dartboard. So as long as I have to put up with your ugly face floating around, keep in mind I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast.”

Bill raised a figurative eyebrow. “You eat pieces of shit for breakfast? Well sheesh, no wonder you –“

“Bill, _enough_ ”, Ford snapped sharply before turning at his brother, who was cracking his knuckles forebodingly. “You too, Stanley. Mind the kids, for goodness’ sake.”

“Yeah, yeah”, Stan grunted back. “As long as you mind your loudmouth excuse of a housepet, we’re even.”

 

* * *

 

The silence that fell after the small confrontation didn’t last long before the door was opened and the Ramirez couple joined them.

“Hey, guys”, Melody greeted. “Sorry about the delay. It’s Tuesday, and, well, you know whose window shopping day that is.”

“Tyler Cutebiker”, said Stan and the kids, rolling their eyes in unison. Melody chuckled.

“Well, can’t complain about having the Mayor visit us every week. So, what’s the occasion? And… Oh! Oh dear.” Her jaw dropped as she spotted Bill floating midair, focused on fixing his bowtie that Stan’s manhandling had left slightly crooked. “Soos, is that the… Don’t tell me he’s the one who did that thing four years ago.”

Soos’ expression had turned dead serious in an instant. “Yes, honey… This dude is _the dude_.” Then he squinted. “That, or a very lifelike floating piñata. I can’t really tell.”

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately he’s the real deal, Soos”, he said, and added quickly as Melody’s frown started to turn from worried to distressed: “Don’t worry, he’s under my control and completely harmless. However, he is also bound to me, so as long as I am around… he’ll have to stay as well.”

“What my brother means to say is he brought the insane chaos demon who tried to kill us all back from the dead, and he’s going to have it crash on your couch without asking you guys first”, Stan blurted out. Mabel gave him a furious frown.

“Grunkle Stan, did you forget what I said already? Grump timeout is on, now get ready for the smile pinchies!”

Stan backed off immediately. “Oh no, you won’t! Not for the second time!”

“Mabel, there’s no need for that”, Ford interrupted her with a hint of a smile, “although I do appreciate the thought of a grump timeout. Stanley’s right, for the most part. Soos, Melody, I apologize for not letting you in on my plans sooner. But what’s done is done, and I will take full responsibility for my actions… as well as his.” He gestured towards Bill, who snorted audibly beside him.

“Obviously, I will not have him ‘crash on your couch’ as per Stanley’s rather contentious choice of words”, he then continued, shooting an angry glance at his brother who glared back just as stubbornly. “I will secure your living space and make sure his presence will not interfere with your daily lives. He will be locked up in my underground bunker whenever there’s no reason for him to be around. I promise I will take care of everything.”

“Oh, well…” Melody and Soos looked at each other for a while. “It, well, it does sound like a fuss, but… Do you think we can handle it?”

Soos scratched his head underneath the fez. “I don’t know, honey, do _you_ think we can handle it?”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like anything we can’t work with…” Melody mused. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s nothing we can’t work with. Right?”

“Whew! Glad you said it before I did. Sure, we can work with that”, Soos nodded and turned to Ford with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Ford, you can bring back as many triangle dudes as you want. Melody and I can work with it.”

“For god’s sake, Soos, don’t tempt him”, Stan snarled.

Bill, on the other hand, seemed to be happy with Soos’ laidback take on the situation. “Ah, good old Question Mark! Or… should it be Fez now?” Bill squinted at Soos’ hat symbolizing his position as the new Mr. Mystery. “Nah… you seem more like a question mark to me. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, am I right?”

“That’s right, dog!” agreed Soos with a firm nod, even though he didn’t seem to be completely following what the demon was getting at.

Bill shone. “Sure, sure it is! You were always my kinda guy, you know! So helpful and compliant like a puppy… not unlike _someone else here_ used to be.” He gave Ford a meaningful side glance. “Speaking of dogs, that British canine chap still haunting your dreams?”

Soos shuddered. “After years of trying to forget that cartoon abomination… The day of reckoning has come.”

Bill spread his arms. “Ha! Don’t you know we’re all in cartoon hell here? Oh, right, there’s no way _you’d_ know! Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, I guess that’s something to keep you awake at night! Should work as a nifty repellent for the pooch with a cane for what it’s worth! Face the existential void now and thank me later! It won’t get much worse than that, I promise!”

“Bill, _can you not_?” Ford groaned. His mood hadn’t been the brightest to begin with, and now he was slowly running out of patience.

Bill didn’t seem to concern himself much over his words of warning. His eye wandered to stop at the baby bump underneath Melody’s dress and turned into a delighted smirk.

“Oh, this one’s got a bun in the oven! Speaking of which, does anyone here know how to fit ten babies in a suitcase?”

Ford panicked. “Bill, _DON_ -“

 _“With a blender!”_ Bill cackled and toppled over, almost dropping his hat in the process. His unhinged laughter was the only sound breaking the thunderstruck silence that had fallen after his punchline. “What? It’s a dead baby joke! A fine form of art and entertainment amongst you short-lived meatsacks! Only good thing about mortality is that you can make fun of it! It’s hilarious!”

Ford had no time to be shocked before he had to throw himself between the rejoicing demon and his brother, who was readying his fist to knock the aforementioned unconscious. “Let’s see how many jokes you can come up with about _dead trian_ -“

“ _Pffft_ – hahaha, oh, hahahhah!” Everyone turned towards Melody, who was now in turn holding her stomach with laughter. “Ah, I’m sorry, I couldn’t… hold it back! Gosh, that’s so… so brutal, haha, it’s brilliant! Oh, oh my stars!”

Bill shone with glee. “ _That’s_ what I’m talking about! Hey, I like this woman! So can you guess how to get them _out_ of the suitcase?”

“Oh, gee! How?” Melody joined in, eyes glinting with macabre curiosity.

“ _With corn chips_!”

Both roared with laughter, and this time it was Melody who almost fell over.

“Hahahaha, oh, stop, stop, my bladder, _ahaha_!”

“Dogs, I don’t get it”, Soos said with a frown. Everyone else settled for standing quietly with their mouths hanging open at the bizarre conversation taking place. Stan was still holding his fist up in the air, his expression something between confused and horrified.

“Okay, okay”, said Melody, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, “I got one! What’s the difference between a baby and a fridge?”

Soos startled. “Wait, wait, did he say dead baby jokes? Th, the babies in the suitcase were _dead_? Am I getting this right? But how do corn chips – Wait, dudes, _dudes_ …”

“Bill, don’t you dare”, Ford warned the triangle, who was evidently busy trying to figure out the punchline. He cleared his throat. “Uh, Melody, I don’t think that’s very… Well...” He warily pointed at her stomach.

“What? Oh! Oh, good lord.” It seemed like Melody was only now getting the link. “Oh dear… I’m going to be a terrible mother.”

As Ford dragged Bill away by the arm to prevent further chaos from ensuing, the demon used his free one to tip his hat cheerily at the new Ms. Mystery. “Name’s Bill Cipher, by the way. At your service, Momma Toots!”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, watch it! _I said watch it_ , you six-fingered freak!”

Bill’s jarring complaints didn’t do much to calm Ford down as he hurled Bill roughly into his old room inside the Mystery Shack and closed the door, stepping in front of the demon still trying to regain his balance.

“I know what you’re trying to do”, Ford said sternly, “and I can assure you it will not work out the way you’re aiming for.”

“Oh, but _do_ enlighten me with your brilliantly acute observations, IQ”, Bill sneered. “What exactly am I aiming for again?”

 “You’re trying to wrap the others around your little finger and eventually turn them against me.”

The demon shrugged presumptuously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just trying to make a decent first impression, be a jolly good pal, offer them a hand of friendship. Isn’t that basic human courtesy? Or would you prefer me to grow fangs out of my eye and wail in unholy tongues instead? I can do that, you know, even in my current state.”

Ford frowned. “I know your games, Bill, and I’ll say it again: you’ll accomplish nothing with this charade. You are completely powerless.”

“Oh, I don’t think so”, Bill retorted. “I think _you_ have taken away my powers, but there’s a hefty price for me to get’em back. I think _you’re_ the one putting up a charade here. Well, my friend, I think it’s time to stop these silly little games and talk real business.”

Ford huffed into his palm he’d buried his face in. He felt as though he’d given Bill too much space to act as himself. But just how much would he have to restrain him? Forbid him to speak altogether when the others were around? Well, the ability to do that would surely come in handy even when they were by themselves.

Bill floated down on the edge of the table and sat down, looking considerably more cheerful after his moment in the spotlight. It was obvious he’d enjoyed being in the center of everyone’s attention despite his lack of powers having been noted and pointed out; even without his trick deck, a magician is still a showman to the core, and getting back to his usual verbal shtick seemed to have made him forget about his oppressed position.

He would have to be reminded of it, and preferably sooner than later.

”So!” Bill crossed his legs, his tone of voice ominously pleasant despite the malevolent look in his eye. “What’s _your_ game, Stanford? For what purpose did you bring me back again? It doesn’t take two eyes to see that you’re troubled with something, and hey, for old times’ sake, I’m willing to look past your _barbaric_ behavior towards me and give you something to work with! Two equally smart guys up for negotiation, now doesn’t that sound like a fair deal to ya?”

Ford let out another deep, frustrated sigh. Of course he’d try to do his usual dealing business. He didn’t want to repeat his needlessly rough course of action in the bunker, but he knew giving him verbal attitude would do no good, either. The triangle demon may be omniscient, but at the same time he was incredibly stuck in his own mode of operation.

He remained quiet for a while before facing Bill with a firm answer. He had an idea, and he had to make it work on the first try. “Purpose? There is no purpose.”

At least it seemed to have been nothing Bill had expected. “Come again?”

“I have no use for you”, Ford spat out. “There is nothing I want or need from you.”

“Hah!” Bill let out a sneering hee-haw, albeit a stifled one. “Good going, Fordsy! Comedy gold! Fine, you got your punchline, so why don’t we skip the silliness and –“

“It appears you didn’t catch my meaning, so I will say it again.” Ford’s voice was ice. “You’re useless to me. You have nothing of value to me. _You are worthless_.”

“Wh… _what_ _did you say, you puny mortal_?”

The corner of Ford’s mouth twitched with a bleak hint of a smile. The sight of Bill cursing up a storm with his arms dramatically raised, clearly expecting his form to shift into a more intimidating one by habit but remaining in his considerably small size bound by the chains, was not only rewarding, but a little comical as well. No flames, no extra limbs, no nightmarish visions flashing through his surface. The angry red glow in his eye was the only thing left of Bill Cipher’s former capability of shapeshifting into the worst fear of his victim.

He’d put Ford through that and countless other means of psychological torment so many times after the breach of their partnership. Too many times.

He slammed his hands on both sides of the demon once again rendered immobile by the chains, crouching over him like a hunter claiming their prey they’d driven into a corner. There was no fear nor surrender in Bill’s eye – Ford was convinced he was effectively incapable of either emotion – but looking down at him added a silently smoldering power to his words.

“You heard me”, he growled. “I did not bring you back because I needed your help. Don’t think you can do business with me, because you have nothing to trade.”

This time the scoffing sound Bill made was loud enough to come off as nothing short of forced. “HA! HAHA! _But surely you jest_ , IQ! Do you seriously expect me to believe that sad excuse of a lie? Do you think _I_ don’t know how you humans work? I’ve been watching you since the dawn of your kind! You’re among the greediest creatures in the entire multiverse! All you do is want, demand, ask for more! There’s _always_ something!”

As Ford watched his smug expression waver, he almost felt like grinning a bit. Bill Cipher, an all-knowing demon who had been around since the beginning of time, was uncertain, questioning himself in the face of his resolve. And he, Stanford Pines, finally had an upper hand over his past tormentor. He was the one in power, and he could feel the thrill of it in his blood.

“Good”, he then said calmly. “You should keep telling yourself that, Cipher. I’ll have you believe you still have a chance, whilst knowing I have everything _you_ want in my hold. I will continue to remind you of it and leave it in your sight, just barely out of reach... And I’ll make sure you will never reach it. Do you hear me? You will never get back what I have taken away from you. Ever.”

Bill made yet another angry noise, but Ford pressed a finger against his surface just above his bowtie before he could properly retort. To his surprise, the gesture seemed to effectively clog whatever Bill’s equivalent for voice organs were, judging from the slightly choked gasp that followed. He was only aiming for a hint of intimidation, but this was a rather convenient discovery.

“For a being with infinite knowledge, you’re not very good at learning, are you?” he continued. “ _You don’t get to disobey me_. I am aware that you’re persistent, foolishly so, and I’ve no doubt you will spend every single second of your miserable worthless existence using every trick and deceit you have up your sleeve… But sooner or later, the futility of your efforts will start to sink in, and it’ll crush you. I will watch you fall like a puppet with its strings cut down. That…” With one finger, he toppled Bill over like a king piece in chess, keeping him effortlessly pressed against the table – “…will be my reward.”

Bill struggled a bit under his hold, but Ford wanted to savor the moment of his triumph. He took his time before easing off the pressure enough to let him speak again.

“You…” Bill’s voice sounded a bit hoarse. “You think you’re the one with all the might and main here, don’t you, Stanford? You think two can’t play this game, huh? You think you can win an endurance contest against _me_? Well, I’ve got news for ya. I have lived for three billion years, _mortal_ , and while it must be hard for your massive ego to understand, you are among the tiniest hindrances I’ve ever come across. The tiniest! To me this is nothing, but for you, it’s _torture_. Just being within a ten-mile radius from my presence sets your teeth on edge. Hah, you can’t even touch me without recoiling.”

“Well, I am touching you right now”, Ford pointed out. “And I don’t appear to recoil at all.”

“Keep talking, smartass! Meanwhile I’ve got all the time in the world to wring your nerves until they’re crisp and done for, or until you drop dead like the shabby old meatbag that you are. Then I’ll be rid of you for good!”

“When I die”, said Ford, showing no distinguishable change in his tone of voice, “you will turn back to stone. That, or I will turn the possession of the Blood Chains over to someone else, such as Dipper. He would be glad to continue what I’ve started.”

“I… _I don’t care!”_ Bill hissed like a wild animal. The brief second of hesitation in his words made the corners of Ford’s mouth twitch with grim contentment. “You measly fleshlings _really_ have no clue, do you? Your limited mind can’t even begin to imagine how much my patience has been tested by the dullness of eternity! But oh, I’m patient, thank you very much! I am the embodiment of patience! Your silly little human determination _pales_ in comparison to how long I’ve had to wait! You have nothing on me, Stanford Pines! _You_ ’re the one who’s nothing! _You_ ’re the one whom _I’ll_ make surrender!”

“No. No, you will not.” Ford’s chilly, calm response seemed to set Bill off even more; he looked like he was just moments away from reverting back to mindless screaming. “You say you have been following the humankind right from the start. Yet you seem to have missed the one trait that no other creature can match, not even you. Something that at first renders us weak, but given enough time and care for it to grow, it will make us unbreakable and unyielding.”

“Save your ridiculous pep talk, you ignorant –“ Bill snarled, but choked again as Ford pressed his entire hand against his surface, less gently this time.

“That driving force”, he muttered, lowering his head so that the ends of Bill’s eyelashes were less than an inch away from his face, “is spite. Yes, what you said a moment ago was true. I despise you. I despise you enough to rather stay as far away from you as I can. The mere sight of you makes me sick. But see how I am touching you and looking at you right now? I can be this close to you despite my revulsion. Look… _I am willingly pushing myself as close to you as I am able to_.” He was now so close he could feel Bill’s sharp, stifled breaths blow against his face in small huffs, and the tip of his nose was hovering just above the eye’s furiously gleaming surface.

“You cannot understand this, can you?” he whispered, his lips curving into a small smile, and felt Bill tense under his hand. “My course of action is beyond your comprehension. Why would I willingly do the very thing my instincts are telling me to back away from? I will tell you why. It’s so that I can despise you even more. So I can be reminded of every single grudge and hardship, every bit of grief and misery you’ve put me through. That is how much I hate you. But you will never be able to understand it.”

He finally loosened his hold and got up. Bill remained where he lay, and Ford could see him trembling. Whether it was from anger, strain or something else, he couldn’t tell.

“And that, _old friend_ , will become your downfall.”

As soon as he’d left the room and slammed the door shut after him, his hand flew up to cover his mouth as though he was about to vomit. Supporting himself on the nearest wall, he took deep, heavy breaths while pinching the bridge of his nose with a slightly shaking hand, and tried his best to ignore the phantom taste on his tongue that reminded him of the tea he and Bill had once shared in the Dreamscape.


	6. Arc I | Entry No. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/149141115009/ (Recommended to check out after reading the chapter, some of the artwork contains heavy spoilers!)
> 
> Warning tags become relevant in this chapter. Tread accordingly.

* * *

 

 

_Entry no. 6.  
_

_There was a fatal miscalculation in my plan._

* * *

 

When Ford returned to his room after taking a short breather from their confrontation, he found Bill lying flat on the table in the same position as he’d left him. He didn’t utter a single sound or word of complaint upon his return, which Ford found very peculiar from the demon who was always hellbent on having the last say. Despite his own irony resolve, he hadn’t really expected his act of intimidation to be this effective.

As he released the chains binding Bill to the table while he had been gone, the triangle sprang up without further delay and floated to face the stained glass window with his arms languidly hanging, not bothering to shoot a single glance at his capturer.

Ford sat down beside the table. Now that Bill was – he hoped – convinced of his diminutive position to negotiate, the next step in strengthening his submission was to lay down the facts as far as they would serve that purpose.

“I will now tell you how the Blood Chains work and limit your freedom.”

No reaction.

After letting out a short, frustrated sigh, he continued with a more rigid tone. “As I’m sure you have noticed, I can restrain your movements up to a complete halt at will. The chains have also been set to protect me, and any sudden motion with an ill intent will be stopped regardless of my awareness of it. You have been deprived of your powers, and as you surmised, I have full control over them. I may permit you to use them on a temporary basis should it come in handy, provided that you submit to my will as I expect you to.”

There were risks in giving Bill this information, but he’d already blustered on it a little while ago. He also had a feeling that Bill’s nature of a dealer would respond well to the norm of reciprocity, and a stick-and-carrot method seemed like a good way around it.

“Furthermore”, he went on, his temper gradually growing shorter the longer he had to address his speech to Bill’s seemingly unconcerned back, “I am not fully familiar with the properties of your current physical form yet, and I plan to examine them further. I trust you won’t create a problem of being subject to my research.”

He fell silent and waited for Bill to react, to no avail. None of this had ignited even the slightest bit of protest or mockery from the demon.

“Bill.”

As his now distinctly impatient call continued to be met with nothing but disregard, he finally gave up and grabbed Bill by the wrist to drag him out of the room and back into the bunker. Even physical coercion, which so far had never failed to set Bill off enough for the chains to materialize, had no effect. It was as if his massive ego, along with his entire will, had been completely drained out of him.

This time, Ford was with Soos. He wouldn’t have been able to tell Bill as he was now apart from a lifelike floating piñata if he ever saw one.

 

* * *

 

Bill’s silence lasted for more than a week.

Not that he even had too many opportunities to talk to begin with. As he had promised, Ford made sure to keep Bill’s presence from affecting the daily lives of the Ramirez and the rest of his family. He kept the demon confiscated in the bunker, merely checking up on him a few times a day and locking him up in his cage for the night as a precautionary measure. Apart from the additional peace of mind it gave Ford – despite the heavy padlocks that were physically impossible for Bill to meddle with, he still found it mildly unnerving to have Bill alone in the same room with a storage of weapons and other potentially dangerous supplies he’d prepared for the apocalypse – it didn’t make much difference whether he was in the cage or not, seeing how all he did was sit still. Even when Ford descended the stairs to check up on him, Bill ignored his presence completely, his expression locked into a completely blank, unreadable stare.

Dipper followed him to the bunker quite often, sometimes accompanied by his twin. After a few failed attempts to make Bill react with every trick she had up her sleeve (except tickling, as Ford thought it was best to not let the kids touch him), Mabel had voiced her concern over Bill’s state of mind, likening it to something she called a post-revival depression. Ford, for his own part, was not worried. From the way the bird cage could be found toppled on the floor every morning after he’d set it on the desk for the night, he knew Bill was still actively rebelling against him. The demon hadn’t lost his willpower. This was all just an act, a scheme to make Ford let his guard down.

He knew Bill was planning something, and his own inability to see through the demon’s seemingly emotionless state was wrecking his nerves.

He’d expressed his concerns to Dipper, who had been more than eager to help him with anything he could ever since Bill’s resurrection. Taking part in the spell’s incantation had made him feel involved and responsible for making his contribution in stopping the apocalypse, and he fulfilled this self-proclaimed duty more than gladly. While the teen shared Ford’s suspicion that Bill was up to something, he didn’t seem to view it as something that would require putting extra effort into trying to figure out.

“He’s just fishing for attention, putting up a show of his own pitiable state”, he said when they discussed the situation in the basement laboratory. “He’s a drama queen. Even though he used to be an ageless chaos god, we all know he has the emotional maturity of an infant. Soos and Melody’s baby is going to outgrow him in no time.”

“I won’t argue with that”, Ford said with a small laugh that then turned into a frown, “but quite frankly, I’m not sure if that’s all there is to it. To me, his charade is more reminiscent of that of an animal pretending to be injured… But only to distract its audience from something else, like its nest. I feel as though we’re not seeing the full picture of his shenanigans. Dipper, I fear he’s pulling a bluff on us.”

Dipper was quiet for a while. “I guess you’re right”, he then said slowly. “But there’s no way to know, is there? No matter how compliant he may seem, Bill is always up to no good. And I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon, well, not unless Mabel puts something in his drink at least.” He shuddered a bit. “I’ve had enough Mabel Juice forced down my throat to make me seriously suspect that my sister is actually a potion-brewing witch. One time I was convinced of my destiny to be reborn as a mermaid for a full hour.”

Ford couldn’t hold back his smile. “Well, who knows? Perhaps Mabel Juice is the answer to all our problems.” After his thirty years of having to run several tests on everything on his plate to make sure it was edible, he’d firmly decided to stay away from anything that had little plastic dinosaurs floating in it, much to Mabel’s dismay. “If that should be the case, I might reconsider giving it a try at last.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that, Great uncle Ford. Not even once”, Dipper advised with a grimace. “That drink has powerful reality-warping properties. Your world will never be the same.”

“I will trust your word then”, Ford nodded. “What you said about Bill is true as well. Bill will always hold ill intentions towards us. Instead of turning that into a matter of concern, we should focus on making sure that he will never get a chance to act on them.”

Dipper smiled reassuringly. “Sounds reasonable to me. And besides, with the Blood Chains keeping him in the leash, what reason is there to worry about in the first place? The spell is infallible, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. The spell is perfect”, Ford admitted. “No matter how he may try to object me, I’m the one ultimately in charge of all his actions.”

 _And that’s why the only weak link in the chain_ , he thought in his head, _is me._

“Exactly”, said Dipper with confidence, apparently not noticing the hazardous undertones in his great uncle’s statement. “As far as it comes to Bill attempting to do something he shouldn’t, we have nothing to worry about.” He tapped the journal opened on the table between them with a knitted brow. “Now if we could just figure out how to get him do what he _should_.”

It was a problem they’d been musing over for quite some time now. All of the materials Ford had gathered concerning the crossdimensional leaks were scattered across the table; the scientist and his nephew had spent hours investigating the articles and theories in hopes they’d provide some kind of a cover story they could trick Bill with.

“Well, fortunately there is no rush just yet”, Ford pointed out. “Bill’s resurrection has returned the weirdness magnetism of this area back to normal. The accumulating effect of the centroids has halted, which will give us some time. I have all of their locations monitored and supervised –“, he gestured towards his portable anomaly radar blinking silently beside the journal, “– and for now, they seem to be forming similar impenetrable fields around themselves to what happened here during Weirdmageddon.”

He turned his journal back for a few pages. “However, according to my calculations, it won’t take more than a year before the centroids have used up their own weirdness energy resources, which will cause them to become unstable and start moving towards the magnetic centrifugal force – which is here, in Gravity Falls.”

Dipper’s frown deepened from thoughtful to a more worried one. “So in time, we’ll be trapped inside a circle of fire swarming with powered-up anomalies.”

“Yes, that is the worst case scenario as it stands”, Ford said with a nod. “We must come up with a proper plan of action before it comes to that.”

“I guess it all burns down to whether we can make Bill cooperate or not”, Dipper wondered. “There isn’t much we can do without his powers, is there?”

“Well, there are some countermeasures we can take even without his active contribution.” Ford tapped the monitor of his anomaly radar, zooming to the surrounding areas of Oregon and the Northern border of Nevada. “I have discovered traces of crossdimensional anomalies not too far away from here. We could take a little road trip to do some fieldwork investigation on the exceptional nature of these, hm…”

“…anomalous anomalies”, Dipper finished his sentence with a smirk. “Sheesh, this new apocalyptic threat is taking your research to a whole new level.”

“You said it.” Ford let out a small laugh. “It’s paradoxical, even. Perhaps I should be grateful to Bill for bringing this disaster upon us. And Dipper”, he then added gently, “it’s _our_ research, not just mine. At this age, my work would be rather insignificant without your youthful contribution. And you aren’t merely helping me to reach my full potential, you know. To me you are a partner, and together we can achieve more than I ever could on my own.”

“Wow, Great uncle Ford, I… Um, thank you, that’s… Wow. Oh man. Really, I… Thanks.” Flustered by the sudden acknowledgement, Dipper seemed to have difficulties deciding where to go next. “Uh, so, road trip! That sounds terrifying. Terrific! I meant terrific. When are we going? This week? The next one? I need to –”

“Hold on”, Ford laughed. “There is still much preparing to be done before we can leave for our trip. Namely everything that concerns Bill and his involvement.”

Dipper blushed. “Oh, right. Of course.”

“In fact, I was hoping we’d be able to take Bill with us on the road”, his great uncle continued. “We could try to ignite his characteristic curiosity without leading him in on too much. Even stronger than his grudge towards me is his egoistic arrogance, and I bet he can’t resist an opportunity to show off his vast knowledge when one arises. With his connection to the Nightmare Realm cut along with his powers, it is likely that he cannot tell the anomalous phenomena of this dimension apart from those of his own. So it should be safe.”

“Sounds like a plan to me”, said Dipper thoughtfully. “Now we just need to figure out a way to masquerade it as purely coincidental instead of something we need his help with.”

“Yes.” Ford closed the journal, signalling that it was time to head upstairs for dinner. “But first and foremost, we need to get him to talk.”

It was easier said than done, seeing how Bill seemed to have decided that the rest of the world could as well be nonexistent to him.

 

* * *

 

After five full days of mutual indifference, Ford brought some of his work into the bunker. From his storages he’d found his old flipchart, and every now and then between burrowing into the research materials and filling the pages of his journal, he stood up and wrote down bits and pieces of basic theorems – nothing too significant, but merely something he thought might pique Bill’s interest. So far, his efforts seemed to go to waste: not once did Bill turn his glance from the spot on the opposite wall it was locked on, and the only sign of him having even noticed the flipchart’s presence was when he’d bumped his cage against it the following morning. Ford didn’t know whether it had been a conscious attempt of toppling it over, but he removed it from the bunker either way, just in case.

After eight days had passed, he decided to make his first attempt to communicate with Bill again.

“Hold still.”

His order wasn’t really necessary as Bill had lately been doing nothing _but_ sit still, but he wanted to address him either way before proceeding to study the external features of his physical form, if only to remind him of his subservient position. Even though he hadn’t expected anything otherwise, he was mildly disappointed with even a blatant command having no visible effect on Bill’s mood, provided he even had one to begin with in whatever state of unresponsiveness he’d submerged in.

Still in the vague hope of getting even a slight rise out of the demon, he started with picking up the top hat and inspecting it in his hands. Contrary to the bizarre sight he’d witnessed during Weirdmageddon, this version of the hat consisted of a fabric-like material, like what one would expect from a regular piece of clothing – no sound of bones crushing underneath his palm as he rolled it tentatively against the table. He kept his eyes on Bill as he put the slightly wrinkled hat back to its place, from which it floated to remain aloft half an inch from the triangle’s apex. It might’ve been his imagination, but for a fleeting second he thought he saw Bill’s pupil move slightly.

He moved on to the triangular body itself. Upon being picked up, Bill fell completely limp in his hands like a ragdoll. He really seemed persistent on being as uncooperative as he possibly could, Ford thought a little irked, but didn’t let it hinder his investigation.

He drew the demon near his face to get a proper look at the intricacies of his golden surface. Both from its appearance and Bill’s self-proclaimed affinity with gold, he assumed the material was either that or something closely resembling it; however, the demon’s weight didn’t quite add up. Was he hollow? Or did he perhaps have internal organs of some sort? He felt around Bill’s thin arm and squeezed it lightly between his fingertips. He couldn’t sense any skeletal structures, but instead something thinner and more flexible, like a bundle of sturdy fibers.

As he inspected Bill’s small fingers one by one, he suddenly felt them give a small twitch, clearly noticeable this time. He grinned inwardly. It was becoming increasingly evident to him that Bill _hated_ physical touch with a fiery passion. As a constant reminder of being caged by his current form, it was humiliation at its most fitting. Ford had finally found a way to push his buttons, and perhaps it would be enough to chase him out of the shell of disdain he’d shut himself in.

He let go of Bill’s hand and moved it back on his surface instead. His fingernails ran across the joints between his bricks, scraping slightly at the edges in an almost intrusive manner to see how easily they would disconnect from each other. He could feel Bill tremble a bit, a sign of helplessness that sent a small shiver of excitement down his own spine. Being ignored had gotten rather tedious over the course of the past week. Now, at last, the demon was certainly paying full attention to him: his eye was still persistently staring elsewhere, but it was glazed and crinkled with a furious frown he could no longer hide. His hands were clenched into fists while Ford continued exploring the narrow interstices of his surface – was it just his imagination, or was Bill’s temperature rising slightly? – and as his fingertips tugged tentatively at the silky material of his bowtie… _Snap._

Finally.

Ford allowed a victorious smile to spread on his face as his eyes were met by an enraged stare of his involuntary test subject. Bill’s hand was raised with a clear intention to slap his hand away, stopped midair by the chains. Ford welcomed the sight of their crimson glow for the first time in over a week; they were the reminder _he_ had needed of his own power.

“Oh, did you find this experiment unpleasant?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “You could have just _told me so_ , Cipher.”

He was vaguely aware of how uncharacteristically ill-natured his words had sounded coming from him. He had no particular feelings of remorse for it, but he was rather glad Mabel was not around this time. However, instead of continuing to pressure Bill into speaking out, he settled for simply shoving him roughly back into his cage. As soon as the padlock was set, he turned around and left the bunker without saying another word.

He was slowly beginning to find fragments of the triumph that had been missing from the sensation of having the triangle demon at his mercy.

 

* * *

 

“Eh, to be honest I’m not really sure about this, Mr. Ford. I mean, it’s nothing I can’t fix, but…”

Soos turned the wrecked cage around in his hands with a hesitant expression. Ford was clueless as to how Bill could’ve managed to turn his cage into the condition he had found it in the next morning, but by now it was dented enough for the triangle to be stuck between its bars, unable to move an inch. As much as Ford would’ve wanted to make him simply deal with this added restriction he’d inflicted on his own living space, he knew the cage would have to be repaired before its resident found a way to smash it altogether.

“What is it, Soos?” Ford asked. “Is there a problem apart from the damage it has taken?”

“Well…” Soos scratched his head. “I mean… This whole cage business feels a bit needless is all. You know, with the chains and all. And the bunker and all. And, let’s be real here… He’s very tiny. Caged or not, he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried to. Well, maybe a fly. But I don’t see why this dude would want to hurt a fly, am I right?”

Bill shot an irritated glance at him. He still refused to speak, but at least he was making eye contact again – with everyone else except Ford, who was back to being utterly ignored by his captive.

“I understand why the cage must appear like an excessive countermeasure to you, but its purpose is to further guarantee our safety. I do not intend to take any unnecessary risks with Bill, no matter how powerless he’s deemed by the Blood Chains”, Ford stated firmly, then went on to add: “And yes, he would hurt a fly for no better reason than his own macabre curiosity. And after he was done hurting it, he would go ahead and threaten to hurt the fly’s family as well while holding it on figurative knifepoint, forcing it to witness it all. Trust me, Soos, I have been there myself.”

Soos looked quite sad after hearing his bleakly obvious analogue, but ventured on making finger guns at him either way. “Touché.”

Neither of them was looking at Bill at the time, so the demon’s effort on making a show of rolling his eye was left unrewarded.

“Okay, I gotcha, Mr. Ford”, Soos then nodded. “I’ll mend this cage for your little triangle pal. But while we’re at it, I gotta ask you something. You see, Melody and I were thinking…” He scratched his head. “Know what, I think I’ll let her do the talking. It was her idea, anyway. Hey Honeypumpkin! Can you come here for a bit?” he hollered towards the front door, and before Ford had time to inquire any further of this ‘idea’ he’d mentioned, Melody’s head peeked from the doorway.

“What is it? Oh, hiya, Stanford! And good morning to you too, Bill”, she added amiably and, to everyone’s surprise, received a courteous tip of the top hat for an answer.

“Look at you, a true gentleman!” she laughed and gave a wink at Ford, who wasn’t sure how to take this at first. Surely she was only joking… right? Well, of course she was. He knew Melody was much smarter than she usually made herself out to be, and her approach to things was often a rather unique one.

He didn’t, however, expect to hear what she proceeded to say next, not even from her. “He’s been locked away for quite some time now, hasn’t he? Oh, that’s probably why Soos called me here, right? Well, you see, we were thinking… Maybe he’d like to join us for dinner one of these days? Just a little get-to-know time for all of us living here, since he’s going to be around for quite some time anyway.”

“Yea, dude”, Soos joined in. “We don’t really know if he actually eats anything, but he could just be there, hang around, you know! Haha, get it? It’s funny because he floats. _Zing_.”

“Uhh…” Ford didn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned. “You… You want Bill to join us for dinner? Melody, Soos, I… I truly hope you’re joking. That’s a very… precarious suggestion, to say the least.” He wasn’t the only one to think that – even Bill was visibly raising his eyebrow with what looked like amused bewilderment.

“No, dude, we really mean it”, Soos assured with a wide smile. “You know, since he’s here, might as well give him a little tour around the place, right? I know he’s not a paying customer, but we like to cut a little slack with that.”

“Soos, he already _knows_ the Shack”, Ford retorted. “It was built in his image. He practically lived here for two years. He knows all there is to know about this house.”

“Not after we took charge he doesn’t”, Melody pointed out. “It would good for him to let him see how things have changed around here.”

Ford blinked. Granted, she had a point, but… still, a dinner invitation? “Well, uh… While I can appreciate your gesture of kindness… which I, uh, suppose this is… I hope you realize Bill himself is incapable of such gratitude. There really is no need to do this.”

“Oh, we know”, Melody swished her hand cheerfully as if the topic was something completely different. “You said you were going to take care of everything, we wouldn’t have to bother ourselves with him and all that… But that’s exactly why we came up with this idea, you know? You don’t have to do everything by yourself, Ford. We said we could work with it, and well, this is our way of working with it.”

“Stanley would never allow it”, Ford said, completely mystified as to how his other arguments had been countered so far. He found it hard to believe he had to argue his stand in the first place.

“Oh, Mr. Pines won’t be a problem”, Soos promised. “Sure, he had some things to say about our idea at first, but we told him he’d be the first one to hold the newest knucklehead after us if he let us do this. Worked like magic. Or a mute button.”

“You… You sold him such an important moment for _this_?”

“Oh, he would’ve had that privilege either way”, Melody smiled. “We just made a bit of business of it.”

“Learned from the best”, Soos confirmed with a sagely nod.

“We also asked the kids, and they have no problem with it, either.”

Ford was rendered speechless by their confidence. Why were they so determined to go through this ludicrous idea? His puzzlement must’ve been visible on his face, judging from how Soos grabbed his arm and turned away from the triangle demon observing them with an expression of tame curiosity.

“Mr. Ford, between you and me –”

“He can still hear you, Soos. He’s right behind your back.”

“Oh, right…” They walked a few steps farther, leaving Bill under Melody’s supervision. “Between you and me, Mr. Ford, your triangle dude could use some fresh air and company. It must be pretty lonely being locked up all day in that bunker.”

Ford raised an eyebrow with surprise, then sighed. “Soos, I think… Look, I know caring for others is a part of your nature, and I value and respect you for your sincerity, but… Bill is a demon. He doesn’t need fresh air nor company of others. Any unnecessary involvement with him is toxic for those unaware of his true intentions. He sees the rest of us merely as his tools, and he will not hesitate to take advantage of your kindness if an opportunity arises. We all have seen the extents of cruelty he’s capable of, and while that is a worst case scenario that will never be allowed to occur again, I truly think your consideration for him will only go to waste. He is sub-human, a monster devoid of empathy and regret, and undeserving of anything more than being treated as such. He is irredeemable.”

It took Soos a while to grasp every fancy word he spoke. “I getcha, Mr. Ford”, he then said cautiously. “You know him better than the rest of us, and if that’s what your gut tells you, I have no doubt that it’s true. But”, his expression turned a bit firmer, “that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give it a try. As you said, he’s… not human, but we are.”

“Yes, but –“

“And we want to do this for our own sake, not for his. And also… for the baby.” He squeezed the fez he was holding in his hands. “The little one wouldn’t understand why their mama and papa treat the tiny triangle dude badly. I don’t want that, Mr. Ford. Just… Let us do our thing. Please. I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but my wife is smart. She knows what she’s doing, trust me.”

Ford was a little uncomfortable. He felt a pinch of guilt over having lectured Soos like that a moment ago. “I… I know. I’m sorry, Soos, I did not mean to doubt your judgment, either.” He sighed. “All right. I suppose we can arrange it so that Bill can join us for tonight’s dinner. I doubt he will be good company, seeing how he refuses to speak and probably to eat as well, but… If it makes you happy, I will bring him along.”

“Oh, dude! Thank you. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Ford didn’t quite understand the relieved smile Soos shone at him with. As he glanced over his shoulder and saw Melody intently watching Bill perform a sleight of hand with a pine cone he’d picked up from the ground, he suddenly found himself in fear of the upcoming night. Why was he so averse to the thought of having Bill dine with the family? And why was everyone else so bent on getting involved with the demon, when all he did was try to keep them away from even the slightest potential of harm he might cause? Did they… not trust his capability to handle Bill himself?

 

* * *

 

He same question was still looming over him as he stepped through the back door with Bill floating quietly in his wake.

Stan was slogging down the stairs when they entered the Shack, and he stopped still to give Bill a venom-dripping stare. His grudge towards Ford had toned down significantly during the time the triangle demon had been locked away, and their interaction had gone almost back to normal, save for a slightly strained atmosphere every time Ford had agreed to take the kids with him to the bunker. Ford tensed with unpleasant anticipation at the sight of Stan’s sour look, but fortunately he seemed to focus his antipathy entirely on Bill instead of his brother.

“I’m watching you, dickwad”, he snarled at the demon through his teeth. “One wrong move and I will whack you into orbit with a shovel.”

“Language, Stanley”, Ford frowned almost reflexively. “And there’s no need for that. I have him under control.”

Stan shrugged. “Sure, whatever. Dinner’s not ready yet, so we better head to the living room. Kids, set the table, would ya?”

Before going after his brother, Ford peeked in the kitchen, dragging Bill along by his wrist like one would do with an unimpressed kindergartener. For some reason, he felt like a stranger in the house that used to be his and he’d spent the last four summers living in. “Uh, we’re here”, he announced a little awkwardly. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Melody seemed to be busy breaking raw spaghetti in half to fit it in the pot. “Oh, hey, you two! Thank you, but I got this”, she answered cheerfully without turning around. “Everything is ready, all that’s left is boiling the pasta. Go relax with the others, it’ll only take a few minutes now.”

“Oh… Well then, I’ll leave it in your hands.” He retreated to the living room, where Dipper and Mabel were setting the table and Stan had slumped into his chair, vacantly flipping through the pages of a seafaring magazine. After a warning glance telling him to behave, he let go of Bill’s arm and sat down on the small couch.

“Well, Stanley, found any new ideas for the Stan-o-War III?” he asked, trying to steer everyone’s attention from the former chaos deity he’d just dragged into the room to something more conversational. Right afterwards he realized it might’ve not been the best subject to bring up; what was undoubtedly going to be a very charged discussion concerning Bill’s influence on their future boat trips had been left unaddressed so far. However, judging from his brother’s response, it appeared Stan hadn’t at the very least cancelled any of his plans for a third edition of their childhood ship.

“Meh”, Stan grunted back. “Only so much you can do with a limited budg—“

“AAAHH! _What the hell is that_?”

The old man grimaced as he was cut off by a sudden shriek from Bill. “He’s talking already? Ugh! Was hoping for one minute of peace, but _no_ , not when this triangular piece of –”

“Stanley”, Ford warned once again. It took him a moment to figure out what had caused Bill’s silence to finally break, and when he did, he was suddenly in a hurry to drag the demon away from it.

“Bill, don’t –“

“It _moved_! I thought it was furniture! Just how many useless old meatsacks can you fit in this place?”

“For god’s sake, stop being disrespectful”, he hissed before flashing an awkward smile at the figure Bill was furiously pointing at. “Good evening, Abuelita.”

Soos’ grandmother smiled leniently back at him. “Evening, young ones.”

Dipper dropped a fork at the sound of her voice. “Whoa! When did she…” He leaned towards his grunkles and muttered quietly: “How long… has she been there?”

“Hm?” Ford lifted an eyebrow. “Well, the whole summer, of course. She lives here, remember?”

“She’s always there”, Stan muttered as if to himself. “Silently watching our every move… _Judging_ …”

“Dipper, are you saying you haven’t…?”

The boy’s eyes were wide as he leaned against the dining table. “Two. Whole. Weeks.”

Mabel giggled. “Nice observational skills you’ve got there, Dipdop.”

To Dipper’s relief, he was saved from further ridicule as Melody announced the dinner was ready to be served. As everyone packed around the dining table, Ford lingered behind, wondering what he should do with Bill. He didn’t have to look for a solution for long before Soos walked in, carrying a tiny table under his arm.

“Hey, Mr. Ford!” he called out happily. “Look what I got for our little triangle pal! This is for the baby, but he can use it for now. This way –“, he placed the small table on the corner of the larger one, “– he can sit down like the rest of us, won’t have to float all the time. Handy, right?”

“Well… Yes, quite”, Ford admitted, scratching his head. Frankly, he was a little irked at the thought of Soos having actually prepared a proper seat for Bill to dine in. The whole idea had been downright absurd in the first place, and he couldn’t understand what good taking part in this farce would possibly do.

Bill looked at the table arrangement with his arms sassily crossed. “Oh boy, gotta hand it to these two! This is hospitality at its finest! I’m impressed with you guys, and I can’t say that about certain other hairless apes I know! Well, then!” he floated gracefully down beside his table, taking a seat. “I have no interest in your organic sustenance, but I won’t say no to a lovely cup of tea!”

“I had a hunch, so I set the kettle on the stove just a while ago”, Melody answered him with a smile. “I’ll prepare you a cup right away.”

“Why, thank you very much! Hey Question Mark, this one’s a keeper! I have a couple of binding spells up my sleeve if you’re ever in need! Just a heads-up for a good pal!”

“So you really can’t turn down the volume for this thing?” Stan snarled with a hint of resignation in his voice. “I knew I should’ve stayed in bed today.”

For once, Ford could fully agree with him. “Well, to be honest, I don’t see why –“

The rest of his remark was lost under Bill’s loud rambling. “And there comes the teapot, my old friend through the ages and beyond! Oh, is that Jasmin flower I smell? Goodness gracious! Lemme tell ya, tea is the only thing your lackcluster species ever learned to do right! Of course it’s nothing compared to the delicacies of the Tea Dimension, where _the entirety of_ _existence literally revolves around tea_ , but I wouldn’t do much better than your measly lot if I tried! Ah, bless _you_ , Toots! You really are a treasure, darling!”

“Oh, stop it, you rascal”, Melody laughed. “All right, everyone, stop staring at our guest and eat up before the spaghetti cools down.”

While the rest of the dining company immersed in filling their plates, Ford turned to Bill calmly sipping his tea. “Bill, we talked about this before”, he said in a low tone strained with irritation. “There’s playing nice, and then there’s playing games. Your earlier rudeness towards the elderly of the house aside, I’d appreciate it if y–“

“ _Well, Question Mark, I must say I’m delighted with how you’ve been keeping this place!”_ Bill hollered over his words, disregarding his presence completely. “As I’m sure you all know, this old hut was built as a tribute to none other than the All-Seeing Eye, pleasure to meet ya! It’s a house of worship – a temple, if you may! Pretty shabby for one, but hey, it’s the thought that counts! And we really should cut some slack for the builder, who was, pardon my bluntness, _all thumbs_ _and no grace_ –“

“ENOUGH!”

Even if Bill’s drivelling hadn’t kept the entire group speechless up until Ford’s thunderous retort, the silence that followed was sure to do the job. The six-fingered hands pressed against the table were shaking with fury, making the tableware clatter unnervingly.

“Enough”, he repeated hoarsely. “I will not be disregarded and humiliated. Not in front of my family. Not by _you_.”

“Oh, wow”, Bill replied, his voice oozing smug irony as he copied Ford’s words from the day before. “Did you find this conversation unpleasant? You could’ve _just told me so_ , Fordsy.”

 _SLAM._ The unused cutlery jumped midair as Ford hit his palms on the table. “Enough… is _enough_ ”, he muttered bitterly as he stood up, grabbed Bill roughly by his bowtie and stormed out, heading upstairs.

“Oh, dudes”, Soos said apologetically, squeezing his fez again. “This is not what I wanted. This isn’t what I wanted at all.”

Stan let out a gravelly sigh. “Screw staying in bed today, I should’ve slept over this whole summer. Jesus Christ.”

 

* * *

 

Bill shrieked like a squeaky toy being stomped on as he was tossed violently on the floor of Ford’s room. If there had been any sort of consideration in how Ford handled his captive before, by this point it was gone and forgotten.

“What the hell was that?” he yelled, not bothering to care whether it could be heard by the others downstairs. “ _What the hell was that?_ They allowed you into their house, they served you tea, they even arranged a table for you – and you pay for their efforts by making a scene?”

“HA!” Bill shouted right back as soon as he managed to turn around to face him. “You don’t care about their feelings! You’re mad I made _you look like a fool_! Isn’t that what you said back there? You said, _and I quote_ , ‘I will not be disregarded and humiliated’, _end of quote_! ‘I’, Stanford, not ‘them’! You’re so full of yourself, you don’t even realize –”

“ _Be quiet_!” Ford roared, stepping on his front before he could get off the floor and causing another animalistic screech to tear through the room. “You are under _my_ command, and you will _not_ talk over me under any circumstances! Disrespect me, and you disrespect the others as well! I am the one in charge of your actions, and I will _not_ –“, he pressed his foot down with force, “– _tolerate_ –“, Bill’s shrieking finally stopped as the weight on his front was enough to hinder his breathing “ – _your disparaging behavior_!”

He took a step back to let Bill catch his breath, as well as settle his own. However, Bill was up faster than he expected, still wheezing but eye ablaze as though he was ready to atomize Ford this instant.

“You… hghh… You want disparagement, you dumb human?” he screamed as close to the his capturer’s face as the chains allowed. “Well, there’s more of where that came from, smart guy!”

“Then let me hear it!” Ford thundered back. “Come on, give me your best shot!”

“Oh, you bet I will! I’ll make sure you’ll never hear the end of it! You think that weak little scare of yours intimidated me? HAH! IT WAS THE SADDEST THING I’VE HEARD IN A FEW MILLENIA! YOUR PATHETIC EXCUSE OF SPITE IS A _JOKE_ , YOU HEAR ME! A LOUSY JOKE THAT ONLY SERVED TO PROVE THAT YOU MORTALS ARE GOOD FOR NOTHING BUT BEING USED AS PUPPETS UNTIL YOUR CELLS COME APART! AFTER WHICH THEY CAN BE WEAVED INTO YARN TO MAKE LEGWARMERS, WHICH ISN’T SO BAD EITHER! _BUT_ _I’M SURE YOU CATCH MY DRIFT_!”

“Is that it?” Ford sneered. “ _Is that all you can come up with_? Oh, I’m sure you can do better! Come on! IMPRESS ME, CIPHER! I DIDN’T RESURRECT YOU FOR NOTHING! NOW GIVE ME A CHALLENGE OF MY TIME’S WORTH!”

“OH, YOU’RE NOT IMPRESSED? **_YOU’RE_** _NOT IMPRESSED?_ WELL, NEITHER AM I!” Bill was panting heavily, his voice shrill with strain, but he showed no signs of stopping. “WHERE’S THAT DETERMINATION YOU WERE SO HIGH AND MIGHTY ABOUT BEFORE? WHERE’S ALL THAT EMPOWERING HATRED, HUH? BECAUSE ALL I CAN HEAR IS WHINING! YOU STAND THERE AND ACT AS THOUGH YOU’RE CHALLENGING ME, WHEN ALL YOU DO IS WHINE AND WHIMPER LIKE THE SCARED, WEAK LITTLE LOSER YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN AND ALWAYS WILL BE! COME ON, STANFORD, GIVE ME SOME REAL ATTITUDE! YOU CAGED ME IN THIS FORM SO YOU CAN USE ME FOR THE ONLY THING YOU FLESHBAGS ARE GOOD FOR, RIGHT? DESTRUCTION AND HUMANITY REALLY GO HAND IN HAND, DON’T THEY? YOU WANT TO DESTROY ME, HUH? YOU WANT PAYBACK FOR ALL THOSE YEARS, DON’T YOU? THEN HURRY UP AND **_DESTROY ME_**! HURT ME, SHATTER ME TO BITS, ERASE ME OUT OF EXISTENCE! COME ON, FORDSY! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT! GO ON AND LIVE A LITTLE! LAY DOWN ALL THOSE SICK PRIMITIVE FANTASIES OF VIOLENCE AND DESTRUCTION ON ME, SEE IF THAT LIBERATES YOU! SOUNDS GOOD, HUH? **HUH? BUT YOU CAN’T, CAN YOU? NO, YOU CAN’T! YOU CAN’T KILL ME, STANFORD FILBRICK PINES! YOU DON’T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES! GO ON, TRY IT OUT, YOU CAN’T TAKE THE HEAT, YOU’LL SNAP LIKE A TWIG! YOU…** I’M GONNA…” ****

By this point, he was so out of breath that he collapsed in front of Ford, grabbing onto his shirt for support while gasping for breath. His triangular body was shaking and, strangely enough, glowing.

“Is that all?” Ford said calmly. “Are you finished? Is that all you have?”

The demon bristled, shooting up in front of his face again despite being completely out of energy. He had to hold onto his face to keep himself from falling down, and his eye was half-lidded from exhaustion.

“I’ll… hh…” His hands were clawing weakly at the sides of the scientist’s face, but for some reason, the chains didn’t materialize to stop him. “I’ll show you what I have, you – arrogant –“ He suddenly plunged forward, blinked, and -

…huh?

W… What?

Ford’s eyes slipped shut, unwittingly – why was he answering… _how…_

_…WHAT?_

“AARGHH! WHAT THE HELL?”

“Bill?! W… wh… _What the hell did you do_?”

“WHAT THE HELL DID **YOU** DO?”

“I – I didn’t – ah-“

“Mmffhh!”

“Gh- NO! B-Bill! Stop! For god’s sake, STOP!”

“NO, YOU STOP! YOU –”

First he saw a furious glare, so close to his face that there was no focus – a blink – and then there was a pair of very nonhuman lips, and he didn’t understand anything that happened afterwards. He didn’t understand, he could simply _feel_ , not understand, but respond to the demanding movements on his lips, the metallic taste on his tongue as it traced the warm softness that wasn’t supposed to be soft at all, this made no sense, what was he…. _what on Earth was he doing?_

Then reality finally hit him, but his fingers drawing Bill closer for an even deeper contact were a bit slower to react. It took him a while to get his body to act what his mind was screaming at him to do: tear his mouth off Bill’s and fling the triangle as far away from himself as possible.

“ _BILL!_ ” he shouted, utterly terrified at his own insensible actions. “What the… _What the hell was that_?”

Bill, trying to regain his balance after being once again hurled through the air, shot an angry glance of him while wiping what Ford… _oh, dear god_ … could only assume was traces of saliva from the corners of his eye. “Well”, he said, not shouting this time but still obnoxiously loud, “I think you humans call it a KI—“

“NO, DON’T SAY IT! Keep your voice down! You can’t… Oh, god, _oh god_ …”

“A bit too much for ya, huh, Fordsy? Well, you can only blame yourself! You started it!”

“WHAT? I did _not…_ start… anything! I, I don’t even know what happened!”

Bill groaned as he floated closer. “Urrrgh! For a genius, you sure know how to be dense! Like I was trying to say, I _kissed_ –“

“No, you didn’t! That wasn’t… _You don’t even have a mouth_!”

“Hah! You know I do, look!” A blink, and instead of an eye, Ford was staring at a grinning imitation of a mouth, complete with narrow lips and a swift tongue flickering behind a wide set of dangerously pointy teeth –

“No!” he protested, yet unable to turn his gaze away from the bizarre sight. “It’s your eye! Yes, you can evidently turn it into a mouth, but _it’s still your eye_!”

“Well, guess it goes to follow that _you just kissed my eye_! Oho, got an almost poetic ring to it, that one!” It was a lousy attempt of snark, completely lacking the usual edge and unable to cover the distinctly nervous note in his voice.

“Th… That’s absurd, I…” Ford was panicking even more than him. “Just… Be quiet for one damn minute, will you? And d-don’t, don’t you dare do that again!”

“Whoa, hold on!” Bill suddenly flared up. “You think I _wanted_ that to happen? You think I _want_ to be in this flesh cage with fleshy urges and other inane sensations you’ve forced me in? Oh, no, not in a million years! I’m _disgusted_ and I _hate_ this! I’d retch just to demonstrate how much I hate this if that wasn’t disgusting as well! Hey Fordsy, imagine being stuck in a pipe filled with sickly sweet goo that gets in your eyes and infiltrates your body through your skin! Would feel a little claustrophobic in there, wouldn’t ya? _That’s_ something for you to think about, you dumb sack of mortal filth! You just _had_ to make me put up with the same fleshling misery, _didn’t you_? _You made this form want you on purpose, didn’t you, you self-absorbed freak_?”

Ford shivered. “Shut up! God, just… _Shut up_!”

“Well, _WHY DON’T YOU MAKE ME_ , _YOU -”_

And he did.

He had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t know why the small, muffled sounds spilling through the feverish press of his lips and the others that were not quite organic but just as hungry as his sent sparks of pleasure running all over his body from head to toe; he didn’t know why the intoxicating sensation mixed so seamlessly with his anger and frustration, or why his breath hitched when he felt Bill’s small fingers latch into his hair; why, after grabbing that same hand with his own and slamming it violently against the nearest wall, his fingers clumsily intertwined with the small black ones to keep them in place while the kiss deepened, becoming wetter, more desperate, _forceful_ –

“ _Gh-hhah_!”

The breathless yelp as he finally broke off the kiss resembled that of a drowning man gasping for air upon being rescued from his billowing grave. Still holding the triangle demon against the wall, he reached his free hand to cover his gasping mouth, trying to make sense of anything that had just happened for the second, no, third, _fourth_ time. Bill was panting as well, his pupil dilated and eye gleaming with a strange, thick moist… _good god, my mouth was there just seconds ago_ , was all he managed to think about before Bill closed his eye, a tongue flicking out to wet the eyelids turned into lips again before once more closing in on the old researcher’s mouth.

This time it lasted. And lasted. And lasted… Until Ford once again ended it abruptly, head buzzing and chest heaving from the lack of air, his legs shaking as though just about to give out under him.

Neither of them uttered a single word for several minutes. Once his breathing had finally settled, Ford couldn’t even bring himself to look at the demon any longer. He simply walked to the door, opened it and turned away.

“Get out”, he said, his voice low and unreadable. “Just… get out.”

He didn’t hear a sound, but when he finally looked around after another long silence, Bill was nowhere to be seen.

 

* * *

 

The food had gone cold, reheated and cooled down again before Ford finally returned to the living room. He grabbed his plate either way. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he had to distract himself from what had happened in his room by all means possible.

He had never been so ashamed in his entire lifetime.

He could hardly look at Dipper as the teen sat down on the opposite side of the table. “Hey, Great uncle Ford. So, uh… How did it go with Bill? Are you… okay?” he asked cautiously. “I mean… It didn’t sound like a very pleasant conversation.”

“So you heard it, huh?” Ford let down the fork he’d been trying to stick in his mouth for a while now. He felt a bit sick.

“Well… We really couldn’t help _but_ hear it. We moved to the back porch after a while, though. I… kind of wanted to come upstairs to your aid, but Mabel told me it was best to leave it between you two.”

Ford shuddered a bit at the mere thought of Dipper walking in on the scene. “Ah, well… She… was right. I wouldn’t want you to get involved in our… quarrel. I would’ve escaped the situation as well if I could.” He truly wished he had. “I apologize for the terrible racket we caused. I should’ve taken him to the bunker straight away. I knew he would throw a fit, but… I wasn’t thinking straight when I confronted him, either. And I truly am sorry you had to witness what happened at dinner. I should’ve never agreed to bring him along.”

Dipper shook his head with an encouraging smile. “No, don’t worry about it. If you ask me, it was a great opportunity to observe his behavior around other people. Even though he’s more or less the same annoying bastard as he was before, he’s already being affected by his captivity. You’ve noticed that too, right?”

 _You think I want to be in this flesh cage with fleshy urges and other inane sensations you’ve forced me in?_ Ford gulped. “Oh… Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“I think this change might be a vital help in figuring out how to make Bill cooperate”, Dipper continued. Then he suddenly slapped his hand on his mouth. “Oh, crap! He’s… not here, is he? Please tell me he’s still upstairs.”

Ford frowned. “What do you mean? He left upstairs a while ago.”

“What? He did?” Dipper’s eyes widened. “Without you? But…”

“Well, I thought he’d join the rest of you to finish his cup of tea or… Wait…” A paralyzing terror started spreading up from his fingertips as the realization hit him. “…you retreated to the back porch… So if he didn’t join you, _where_ –”

Both he and Dipper sprang up from their chairs in that instant and ran upstairs, only to receive confirmation that Bill had indeed left; they hurried back down, and one look at a partially opened window in the kitchen sent their hearts racing in their throats. But before they could do nothing but exchange a panicked glance, someone suddenly knocked on the front door.

It was a very distinct knocking sound that could only belong to one eccentric mechanic and old friend in particular.

This was certainly not the right time for having guests, but Ford rushed to answer the door either way. “Fiddleford!” he greeted with a strained smile. “It’s wonderful to see you, but unfortunately we need to… _Bill_?”

“Howdy, Stanford”, Fiddleford McGucket replied with a somewhat worried frown, holding up a butterfly net with a squirming triangle demon trapped in it. “I know we don’t do surprise late hour visits at our age, but ah’ reckon this lil’ fella belongs to you. Found no dog tag on it, but ah’ took a wild guess.”

“Wh…” Ford was rendered speechless for a moment. “Where did you…”

“Flew right by me when ah’ was out in the fields chasin’ them late night butterflies, y’see? Not fer food this time, ah’ swear”, he added quickly, “none o’that kooky biz no mo’. They’re fer Manly Dan’s collection s’all.”

Bill growled, completely tangled in the net.

“Oh, well… This was… something of a fortunate coincidence, I assume. You were in the right place at the right time, Fiddleford. Thank you.” He tried to take the net to his possession, but the mechanic held tight onto it, looking Ford straight in the eyes as though to warn him.

“Ah’ trust y’ain’t forgettin’ what happened last time, old friend”, he said in a serious tone. “I don’t know what yer plannin’ this time ‘round, but ah' know _this –“,_ he shook the net and its cranky prisoner in his hands _, “_ – ain’t nothin’ to play with. Ne’er forget, Stanford.”

Ford nodded. “I know. I have learned from my past mistakes… As well as from this one.” Fiddleford’s expression softened a little, and he handed the demon over to Ford, who pulled him out by his wrist once he’d managed to untangle the net around his legs. The glowing chains appeared as soon as he was freed from his temporary prison.

“I ask you to not let the townspeople know about this yet”, he told Fiddleford. “I will pay your mansion a visit later and provide you with an explanation.”

“Fine b’me”, said the mechanic, reaching to grab Ford’s shoulder for one last warning. “As long as ya know yer playin’ with fire.”

“Yes”, Ford answered with a tired look in his eyes. “I know… Trust me.”

Before closing the door, Fiddleford gave him a slant but warm smile. “Well, Ford, even after all these years an ol’ fool like m’self wouldn’t know any better.” Then he left.

Ford stood in the hallway, his eyes locked on the returned runaway floating in front of him and persistently avoiding his gaze. He grabbed his arm without a word and led him to the living room, where Dipper was waiting with his arms crossed. He barely noticed the boy as he turned to face his adversary.

When he spoke, his voice was rumbling with danger. “You tried to escape.”

“You told me to get out”, Bill retorted, “so I did. Got a problem with that now?”

“ _You tried to run away from me_.”

“Nuh-uh! I did exactly as you told me to do, Fordsy! Jeez, you can’t even keep up with your own nonsense! Some command this is! Ridiculous!”

“Say one more word”, Ford said, his voice cold as ice, “and you will regret it.”

As expected, Bill didn’t listen. “Haha, no, _you’re_ the one who’s full of regret! You can’t handle me! I told you, didn’t I? Sooner or later, you’ll break under the pressure. And when that time comes _, I’ll snap you like a twig_!”

Perhaps there was some truth in his words. Because in that moment, something in Ford’s mind did, indeed, _snap_.

The next thing that occurred to Dipper was that he was glad Mabel wasn’t around. He wished he’d been elsewhere as well. This evening would probably be the last time he’d ever have Spaghetti Bolognese for dinner – he would never again be able to hear a handful of raw pasta being snapped in half without being reminded of the horrifying sound Bill’s wrists made as they were twisted into an unnatural angle in Ford’s grip, bent back until the bundled bonelike fibers in his arms fractured and broke.

It was a sound that would haunt Dipper’s nightmares for the rest of his summer vacation.

Perhaps Mabel had been saved from having to witness the scene itself; she did, however, hear the bloodcurling scream that followed. She hurried from the yard to see what was going on, and upon her arrival her eyes were met with the sight of her paled brother – and her great uncle looking calmly down on Bill Cipher writhing in pain on the floor, his both wrists visibly fractured, letting out a broken whimper just seconds before falling unconscious.


	7. Arc I | Entry No. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/150085894009/

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 7.  
_

_I did not make a mistake._

_I did NOT make a mistake._

 

* * *

 

 

_It was like being trapped in a closed space. The voice that had followed Ford everywhere for decades clawed itself through the thick mist swirling in his head._

_“…snap you like a twig!”_

_No._

_He needs to learn his place. He needs to stop talking._

_The chains light up, then flicker out as his own fingers wind around the tiny wrists in their stead. The chains don’t control him. **I** control him._

**_I’m the one in control, and he needs to know that._ **

_Something cracks beneath his thumb. His mouth feels oddly cold and dry. The pounding in his ears makes him nauseous, but he needs to do this, or it will never…_

_Electricity hums its lullaby in the back of his mind._

A choked sob brought him back to reality with a crash.

He turned to find Mabel staring at him. What he could see of her face beneath her trembling hands was distorted with an expression he’d never witnessed her wear before. It looked stifled and unnatural, like watching a flow of water abruptly stop.

There was an instinctive need to reach for her, explain – this was necessary, it wasn’t his call – but it was, it had been his judgement, his decision, and he had to stand by it. He was in control.

So he said nothing.

“G… Grun…” Mabel’s voice came as small, broken noises between her sobs. “H… He’s hurt… r-really bad… Wh-why aren’t you helping… D… _Did you_ …”

“Mabel”, Dipper tried weakly. “It’s – he…“

Ford remained quiet.

“W-why did you…!”

“All right, what’s the roar about this t– …Mabel?” Stan walked in with a surly face that froze as soon as he saw the tears now streaming freely down his grand niece’s cheeks. “Hey, what’s – oh no.”

His eyes stopped on the unconscious triangle demon and his twisted arms, then shifted to his brother.

Mabel couldn’t take it anymore. Sobs now spilling unrestrained through her shaky inhales, she turned on her heels and flew out of the room.

“Mabel!” Dipper was about to rush after her, but was stopped by a six-fingered hand on his shoulder.

“Dipper. I need you here.”

The boy looked up to see the grave expression of the man he admired more than anyone else. He held back a grimace, his heart pounding with distress. “Gr-great uncle Ford”, he stammered, “I’m sorry, but I really have to…”

“Leave it to me, kid”, Stan interrupted him. “I’ll go after her. You two can finish up… whatever the hell it is that just happened here.” He glared at Ford. “And I’m going to deal with _you_ later.” His tone of voice made it clear that whatever he meant by _dealing with him_ wasn’t going to be simply an amiable pat on the back.

Ford started after him as he walked away with heavy steps. He couldn’t understand why everyone suddenly seemed to be turning against him.

“Dipper…” He asked quietly, unwilling to face the teen in fear of refusal. “You don’t think I made the wrong decision, do you?”

Dipper made a vague sound. “Well, I”, he started with a strained voice, his gaze desperately searching for a fixing point other than his great uncle or the mauled demon, “I don’t… He, B-Bill shouldn’t have… Oh, man…”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to understand.”

“No, I do understand!” Dipper rushed to assure, alarmed by the hint of disappointment in Ford’s voice. “I understand, you were angry, and –“

“My anger had nothing to do with my judgment, Dipper. I did it because it was necessary.”

Dipper squirmed nervously on the spot. “Was it… was it really?” he asked, his voice trembling and barely audible. “He… he had to be restrained, of course, but… breaking his arms is…”

He didn’t understand. _He wouldn’t understand._ “Dipper”, he said with a steady voice, “you must remember whom we are dealing with. Bill Cipher will not listen to reason. He will not comply unless the results are in his own favor. Sometimes talk and restrainment simply aren’t enough. He needs to learn that for every act of rebellion he rises, there will be punishment.” He turned around to face his grand nephew at last. “I’m sure that deep down, you know this yourself. You have to remember what he’s capable of… how he hurt you, your sister, our family, this entire town.” _Me_. “He needs to be punished.”

Dipper was still avoiding his gaze, his expression locked into an uncomfortable grimace. “Well, to be honest, that… That sounds more like revenge than p—Great uncle Ford, he’s _gone_!”

“What?”

Ford’s eyes flickered instantly to where Bill had been lying unconscious just minutes ago. “When did he – he couldn’t have gone far in his injured state. Come, we must hurry!”

“R-right!”

Once again, they rushed through the house, checking and double-checking all doors and windows until they were convinced there was no way for Bill to have snuck out.

“It appears he is still in the house”, Ford confirmed, trying to calm his racing pulse. “That’s a relief. There aren’t too many accessible places for someone his shape and size to hide in. Let us keep looking.”

“Uh, Great uncle Ford…” Dipper asked warily. “What’s… going to happen when we find him?”

Before Ford could answer, the Ramirez stepped in from the back door. “Hey, dudes!” Soos chimed with a confused frown. “Everything okay? We come back from our walk and there’s no more yelling, thank you very much, but Hambone is in Sweatertown, and Mr. Pines told us to ask Mr. Ford instead – hey, where’s the triangle dude?”

“He’s gone into hiding”, Ford said, “but he’s still somewhere in the house. Will you help us search for him?”

Soos looked at Melody. “Well, it’s a little late for hide-and-seek, but sure, dog!”

“Now’s as good time as any”, Melody nodded with a smile, but gave an odd look at Ford as soon as Soos turned away from her. Ford gazed back, unsure how to respond.

As they scattered around to look for the runaway demon, Melody soon caught up with Ford, who had chosen the kitchen to start his search from. “Something happened, right?” she asked with a serious expression. “Did he act up?”

“How can you tell?” Ford asked, astonished.

“Well, I’ve never seen you this pale, for one thing. You look a little feverish.” Melody reached to feel his forehead. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“What? No, that’s impossible”, Ford retorted immediately. “Don’t worry, there is no fear of that. The chains prevent him from ever laying a finger on me.” _Unless I allow it_ almost slipped past his lips, and he could barely suppress a shiver of self-disgust at the sudden memory of small hands possessively grasping at his hair. “We… simply had a fallout. It was purely verbal.”

“Yeah, we heard that all the way outside the house”, Melody said while peeking into an opened bag of corn chips, then shrugged and threw one in her mouth. “But it got quiet all of a sudden right before we left for a walk, so I was a little worried.”

“Oh…” Ford cleared his throat. “Well, he ran out of energy, that is all. The fact that his energy resources are limited by his physical form still hasn’t quite dawned on him, it seems. He appears to be largely unaware of how the corporeal body he’s tied to is affecting him, and continues to push his own boundaries, unheeding the consequences.” No sign of Bill in the cupboard, or over the shelves… Perhaps behind the kitchen fan? No, that would be ridiculous.

He turned to face his companion with a sigh. “Melody, the truth be told… Something rather unsettling did take place after we’d returned downstairs. You see, he –“

“Great uncle Ford, I found him! Or, uh, at least I think I did!”

At the sound of Dipper’s voice, Ford and Melody hurried to the backroom of the gift shop where the teen was waiting with Soos.

“Uhm, so…” Dipper was scratching his head unsurely while looking at the fireplace. “This might sound weird, but I think – I think he’s in the chimney.”

“The chimney?” After sharing a simultaneous raise of eyebrows with Melody, Ford gave a closer look at the pile of ashes Dipper was vaguely pointing at, and soon noticed tiny scrambled footprints and scratch marks all over it. “Oh, I think you may be right. Good catch, Dipper.” He crouched down beside the fireplace; he couldn’t see a thing, but there was a faint golden glow illuminating the pitch-black insides of the chimney from further up, confirming it as the triangle demon’s hiding place.

“Bill!” he shouted. “I know you’re in there. Come down this instant.”

There was no response, but they could hear small rattling and a barely audible whimper. It was only then that Ford recalled Bill’s injured wrists. “Bill, if you refuse to come down by yourself, I’ll have to come up there and get you.” As expected, no answer came. He turned to Soos. “I’m going to need a ladder.”

Soos looked a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, uh… Sorry, Mr. Ford, no can do. No ladders.”

“What?”

“No ladders inside the house”, repeated the current Mr. Mystery firmly. “The Founder’s word is the law.”

Ford had to think back for a moment before recognizing his brother’s irrational fear. He glanced briefly at Melody, who shrugged. “Oh, well. In that case I’ll have to climb up to the roof and see if I can get him out from there.”

“Well, I’m sure you can leave that until tomorrow”, Melody put in with her arms crossed. “It’s almost midnight, and there’s no –“ Her sentence was cut off by a short, muffled cry echoing from the chimney. “Uh, is he okay in there?” she asked with a frown. “That sounded a bit… painful.”

Ford’s answer lingered for a few seconds. “I’m sure he’s fine. It’s probably very cramped for someone his shape. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was stuck and couldn’t get out even if he wanted to… The funnel is too small for him to get out of, but I’ll stay by the fireplace for the night. We can’t have him come out and make a racket inside the house while we’re sleeping.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Ford”, nodded Soos. “I’ll make you a bed downstairs right away.”

“Thank you, Soos, but that won’t be necessary”, Ford answered. “I’ll suffice with a pillow. I’ve spent the last four years on a small ship and the thirty years before that as an interdimensional outlaw… I hardly need a bed to get my rest.” Not that he would get much rest tonight either way; he felt dead tired, but it was the kind of weariness that had nothing to do with sleep.

Dipper, who had been unusually quiet after he’d discovered Bill’s hiding place, pricked his ears at the mention of Ford’s travels on the other side of the portal. He cleared his throat as though suddenly recalling his unofficial position as his grand uncle’s apprentice. “Uhm, so… Great uncle Ford, do you want me to stay here and keep you company for the night?”

Ford smiled at the teen’s sudden albeit slightly forced enthusiasm. “I appreciate the sentiment, Dipper, but we have another long day ahead, and I need your mind fit and well-rested alongside mine. It is very important to get a proper amount of sleep at your age. Thank you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”

Dipper was about to retort, but decided against it after giving a quick glance at the chimney; Ford could see in his eyes that he’d didn’t want to risk having to restart the discussion they’d had a while ago.

It wasn’t until that moment that Ford suddenly realized the incident was something Dipper shouldn’t have been forced to witness. Not Dipper… and not Mabel.

How could he have been so careless?

A sudden sting of guilt in his chest made him cast his eyes down, averting the boy’s gaze. “In any case, you can leave Bill to me. Soos, Melody, I apologize for the unpleasant turn of events this evening. Despite your good will, I should’ve known better than ever agreeing to let him dine with us.”

Soos swished his hand. “Unpleasant, schmunpleasant! No hard feelings, right?”

“Right”, Melody nodded cheerfully. “I don’t think it went that bad, do you?”

“Not at all, Honeybubs! No missing twin brothers, no British dogs, the house isn’t on fire… Could’ve been much worse if you ask me!”

Ford bit down a frustrated sigh as the couple left to bring him a blanket and a pillow. If they’d only known half of what had happened… No, it was good that they didn’t, and he was grateful for their forgivingly nonchalant stance. He took a deep breath. Perhaps they were right… It could’ve been worse.

“Well then… Dipper, are you heading upstairs?”

“Um, no”, Dipper said, looking uncomfortable again, “I think I… need to go find Mabel. I know I shouldn’t be looking after her all the time, but…”

Guilt that was no longer merely a sting hit Ford’s chest. “Oh… Right. Yes, I suppose it’s for the best in this situation. I’d assume she’s at the guesthouse with Stanley. Send her my regards, will you? Tell her I am sorry for letting her witness that.”

The strain in Dipper’s expression softened a little. “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll come around. We’re almost seventeen, and even she should be able to… Well, you know. Grow up. Face things. Maybe this was a learning experience to her. Anyway, it’s no big deal. Nothing to worry about.”

He attempted a reassuring grin that fell a bit short around his eyes. Noticing this, Ford gave him a smile that probably came off as equally unconvincing. “Take good care of her, Dipper. I’ll see to her condition the first thing in the morning.”

Dipper nodded. “Sure. Well, good night.” He gave the chimney one last glance and opened his mouth a little, but decided to leave whatever he was about to say for later. Ford watched after his back as he headed for the front door and left.

After accepting the generous pile of bedding brought to him that was definitely more than just a single pair of pillow and blanket, he wished the Ramirez a good night and retreated in the backroom. As he switched off the lights, the only source of light left was the glow dimly illuminating the fireplace. It created a strange illusion of an unmoving fire – the second occasion that, in Ford’s mind, seemed to signify something abnormal and stifled hanging heavy over him. It made him feel oddly nervous.

He settled beside the fireplace with a sigh, tugging a pillow between his head and the cold bricks. Every so often he could hear a rustle or a barely audible breath from above; an occasional clearer movement was followed by crumples of soot and ash raining into the fireplace. After a while, he spoke up.

“Bill.”

He received no other response than a complete halt of all sounds of movement for several minutes. He could’ve kept talking, knowing Bill would’ve had no other choice than listen to him for once should he retain the silent treatment; it was a rare occasion of forced compliance, but he quickly found there was nothing for him to say.

With every passing minute of quiet his mind began to stray, filling itself with flickering images he’d rather not think too vividly about. The small room made him feel slightly claustrophobic, and for the first time since his return from the other side of the portal, he felt alienated from the house and its residents, desperately wishing he was somewhere, anywhere else.

As he slowly drifted off into a fitful state of sleep, his troubled mind wandered in the countless dimensions he’d been to, and the unending sound of waves crashing against the board of the Stan-O-War II.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Poindexter. Get up.”

He was startled awake by the harsh sound of his brother’s voice above his head. He squinted through the darkness; he couldn’t have been asleep more than a few hours at most.

“Stanley…” he muttered, his voice hoarse, “what are you doing here? What time is it?”

“Time for you and I to have a talk”, Stan grunted. Wiser from the countless occasions in the past years, Ford suppressed the urge to correct his grammar. “I said get off your ass, I’m not going to sit in a dark dusty backroom at this time of the day. So did you bury the bastard’s corpse or what?”

“Wh… Oh.” Rising to his feet, Ford gestured at the chimney. Stan shrugged.

“Oh well, was worth a shot. A man can hope, am I right?”

After locking the backroom door after him in the unlikely case Bill would slip down the chimney while he was gone, Ford followed his brother into the kitchen. Stan slumped onto a chair with a rather jaded sigh; the anomaly researcher could feel the glare on his back as he set the kettle on the stove more out of habit than an actual craving for midnight tea.

The oppressing silence continued until he was sitting on the opposite side of the small table with a cup of tea between his hands. “So…” he started slowly. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Stan crossed his arms. “Well, what do you think, smartass?”

Ford frowned; he wasn’t very eager on engaging in a guessing game at this hour. “Stanley, I’m waiting.”

His brother huffed through his nose and looked away, and for a while the quiet returned. “Urgh, this kind of stuff gives me the creeps”, he finally snarled. “Haven’t had a serious talk like this ever since that three-sided psycho had us caged while threatening to snap the kids’ necks right in front of us.”

Ford raised his gaze from his tea; he’d never heard Stan talking about the horror-filled moments in the Fearamid before. “That… that is true”, he admitted. “We haven’t exactly talked like this since that day. Yet even at the time, the situation was quite different, was it not?” he then added, hoping a reminder of Bill’s past atrocities would encourage his brother to side with his judgment. “The kids were putting up a remarkable fight against Bill in spite of the immense danger, and we… you…” His voice died out at the sight of the pained expression on his twin’s face. “I’m… sorry, Stanley. I didn’t...”

“Eh, ‘s all right”, Stan shrugged, although still looking slightly nauseous. “Shouldn’t have brought it up. I knew this was a bad idea in the first place.” He let out a gravelly sigh. “See, Sixer, I don’t like this at all, but you crossed a goddamn line and I gotta lay it out for ya here. You made Mabel cry.”

“Stanley, I –“

“You made Mabel cry”, Stan repeated, his voice heavy with simmering anger. “My grand niece – _our_ grand niece – that I’ve only seen cry once before, and at that time I didn’t remember who she was, or who I was myself for that matter. _That’s_ the sort of thing that brings tears in her eyes. She’s resourceful, y’know. No matter how bad the situation is, she always finds that one ray of sunshine, that little bit of hope she can hold onto and kick the world’s ass with if needed. Hell, even _I_ probably start bawling easier than her. And _you made her cry_.” The furious edge in his words cut into Ford’s consciousness like a knife. It distantly reminded him of something he’d heard in his father’s tone moments before he’d kicked Stan out of the house. “Boy, you really fucked up this time.”

It was one of the few occasions in his entire lifetime when Ford found himself at a complete loss of words. There was nothing he could retort with, nor did he even want to.

Stan’s eyes studied his unreadable expression for a while before he sighed once again. “All right, pal, here’s the deal. I don’t care if you’re my brother that I worked for thirty years to bring back, and I don’t _care_ if the triangle bastard deserves to be folded in five different ways and thrown into the bottomless pit. Make the kids, Soos, Melody or the baby cry like that again, and I _will_ throw you out, but only after kicking your ass so bad you’ll have to use the space boxers Rick said you were inventing to move around. I’m not joking, understand? You may be the man who saved the world this time, and you may be my twin brother, but this shit does not fucking fly.”

He rose up on his feet with an arduous grunt; but before he left, he spoke his last words of warning to Ford without turning to face him.

“The first thing you’ll do in the morning is go to Mabel and apologize. After which you’ll do anything she asks you to fix the situation. And I mean _anything_. Just make sure to let me know if she makes you sing the Ford Wrong Song so I can do the laugh track for ya.”

He left Ford sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, staring bleakly into his teacup that no longer warmed his ice-cold hands.

 

* * *

 

Contrary to what he’d expected, Ford managed to fall asleep for a few more hours before waking up to the sound of energetic knocking on the door of the backroom.

“Rise and shine, Mr. Ford! Everything all right in there? Is it okay if I pop in to restock before opening?”

Ford rubbed his eyes and felt about for his glasses that he’d forgotten to take off before going back to sleep and had fallen down his face during the night. “Ah… Good morning, Soos, you can come in. Yes, everything is quite all right, thank you.”

The door opened, and Soos’ head peeked in. “Is the triangle dude still up there waiting for Santa?”

“Well… Yes. He hasn’t moved an inch, it seems, nor does he talk.”

“Huh.” Soos stared at the chimney, tilting his head thoughtfully. “I wonder if he really is stuck in there. Poor dude’s got too much angle to handle. Hey, it rhymed! Heh!”

Ford smiled at the simple delight in his eyes at the accidental wordplay. “Soos, I have something I need to attend to. Could you make sure to lock the door when you leave? He may as well be unable to move, but we mustn’t take any chances with him.”

Soos saluted. “Will do, Mr. Ford!”

After a short visit in the bathroom to wash his face and putting on a clean set of clothes, Ford did exactly as Stan had told him to and directed his steps towards the guesthouse. Both of the younger twins were there – he could hear their voices as soon as he opened the front door, and it sounded like they were arguing.

“…to stay! I’m needed here, I have responsibilities!”

“Then I’ll just go by myself!”

“Mabel, don’t be such a baby! This is ridiculous, you’re just – oh, uh, good morning, Great uncle Ford.”

“Good morning, Dipper”, Ford answered with a mild smile as the teen fell silent upon noticing his arrival. Mabel, who was sitting on the porch of the guesthouse facing the other way, flinched at the sound of his voice and immediately plummeted her head into the purple turtleneck sweater she was wearing. Ford felt a cold twist in his stomach; he’d known Mabel was upset, but nothing had prepared him for being so blatantly rejected. Stan’s words dripping with disappointment echoed in his head. _Boy, you really fucked up this time._

It was all right. He could still fix this.

After looking at Dipper and receiving a nervous but encouraging nod, he sat down cautiously beside the girl. “Mabel.”

He could hear a soft sob from inside the sweater.

“Mabel”, he asked gently, “are you… What were you two arguing about?”

Dipper fidgeted awkwardly beside him. “She, uh… She called our parents just now. She told him she wants to go home for the rest of the summer. She’s not really going to leave, of course”, he hurried to add, “she’s just making hasty decisions and… overreacting, that’s all…”

Ford felt like he’d been hit by something heavy and metallic. _Really fucked up this time_. He knew the twins practically lived through the year in desperate anticipation for the summer spent with their great uncles, and now… Not only did she refuse to face Ford himself, but wanted to leave Gravity Falls altogether?

This was much worse than what he’d expected.

His hand flew forward to grab Mabel’s, but he stopped halfway, unsure what to do. “Mabel”, he started once more, his voice strained with distress that almost verged on panic, “I… I made a mistake. I’m terribly sorry for letting you see that. Please, don’t leave. The summer wouldn’t be the same without you. Please.”

Stanley would never forgive him. He would never forgive _himself_.

Mabel let out a tearful whine and turned away from him. “I-is that all you h-h-have to say, Grunkle F-Ford?” She was sobbing so violently that it was difficult to make out what she was saying. “ _’I’m sorry for l-letting y-you see that’_? I-is that… all you’re s-sorry for?”

Ford’s chest felt tight. “Well, I…”

“Y-you hurt h-him! His a-arms were a-all… messed up! A-and you just… That wasn’t y-you! Tell me that wasn’t you! Y-you could never do that! My Grunkle Ford could n-never…”

“Mabel, please, try to understand!” Ford pleaded, throwing away his cautiousness and grasping Mabel’s shoulders in a sudden fit of desperation and fright. “He, he opposed me! He manipulated me, he tried to deceive me again, he – _electrocuted me_ …” His voice broke and died out like a candle, leaving a complete silence behind. Even Mabel’s sobs stopped short, and she pulled the turtleneck off her face wet with tears to look at Ford with reddened eyes.

“G… Grunkle Ford?”

Ford couldn’t answer; his eyes were clamped shut and throat clogged with terror at the sudden memory of nauseating electric shocks racking his body over and over again, the smell of burnt hair, Bill’s shrill laughter that seemed to never stop, _it would never end_ –

“Grunkle Stan! Something’s –“

“Oh, this again.” The familiarity of the sound of slouching footsteps behind him gave him a glint of reality he could latch onto. “Ford, listen. Focus on my voice. It’s all right. The bastard is gone… Well, not anymore, since you brought him back like the complete moron you are… But he’s not going to hurt you. Take a deep breath… That’s it. Keep that pace, you know the drill by now.”

Ford breathed. It was okay. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and he’d survive this just like he’d done before.

In the matter of a few minutes, the mist in his head had faded enough for him to speak again. “Thank you, Stanley”, he uttered weakly, and felt a pat on his shoulder before heavy steps retreated into the guesthouse again. His throat still felt tight as he turned to the paled twins. “I… I apologize. I did not mean to scare you.”

Tears were streaming down Mabel’s face again; this time, however, she didn’t turn away, but instead flung forward to wrap her arms around him and cried on his shoulder for a long time. Ford answered her embrace, changing a somewhat relieved but unsure glance with Dipper, who had sat down on the porch beside them.

“I know y-you’re scared too, Grunkle F-Ford…” the girl wept. “You must be so s-scared… And it’s wrong, it’s so _wrong_ …”

Ford wasn’t sure whether she was talking about his actions or what Bill had put him through.

“Please forgive me, Mabel”, he said quietly as soon as her sobs had calmed down for the most part, brushing aside strands of brown hair that stuck on the wet streaks on her face. “Please tell me what to do to fix this. I will do anything to make you stay.”

Mabel sniffled one last time. “Anything…?”

“Anything”, Ford promised with a smile.

“In that case… You need to tell Bill you’re sorry for what you did.”

Ford’s smile wavered just slightly at her request. “Well, I… I can certainly do that. But I won’t lie to you, Mabel… At this point, it will not be a genuine apology.”

“I know”, answered Mabel, “but I don’t care, as long as you do it. It’s a start. I just think he needs to hear that.”

 _No, he doesn’t_ , Ford thought. _Bill has no conception of remorse. He couldn’t care less regardless of if I apologize to him or not, or whether it’s genuine or not. The only thing he feels for me is hatred. …Nothing else._

But he kept his skepticism to himself. “All right”, he agreed. “If that is what you want, I will do it without hesitation.”

For the first time since the previous night’s incident, he saw a bright yet still somewhat teary smile light up Mabel’s face. “Good! Oh, and I would also like it if you arranged a lift for Waddles to come up for a visit, on a limo if that’s okay with you and, ooh! Maybe –“

“Welp, there she goes”, they heard Stan put in from inside the guesthouse. “You activated the Mabel. Should’ve probably warned ya.”

Ford laughed. “I’ll see to your other wishes later. Let’s get this apology business out of the way first, shall we?”

“Okay”, came a soft whisper. She sounded a little weary after what must’ve been several hours’ worth of crying. “But you have to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Never do that again, Grunkle Ford. Ever.”

Ford ruffled her hair slightly. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.”

The silence continued for a while. “I need you to let me go at some point, though.”

“Hmm… Just one more minute of ripped koala time, okay? Maybe two?”

“Mabel –“

“In fact, let’s make it three.” He could practically hear the triumph in her voice. “I still haven’t called my parents to take back what I said, you know.”

“…Fair enough.”

 

* * *

 

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“Out with it, Grunkle Ford”, Mabel whispered beside him, her arms wrapped in an impatient bundle.

Ford took a deep breath. “Bill, I apologize for what I did. I went too far, and it was… unjustified.” He took a glance at Mabel, who still didn’t appear completely satisfied. He sighed and added in a tone that didn’t do much to cover his frustration: “Please forgive me.”

The worst edge of his humiliation was cut off by relief when he finally received a nod of approval from the girl.

He’d at least expected sneer from the receiver of his reluctant apology, but like before, the chimney’s resident remained completely quiet.

Perhaps it was a bit uncanny seeing how just yesterday he’d wished nothing more than for Bill to shut his figurative mouth, but Ford was growing rather tired of the constant silent treatment. He huffed and turned to Stan, who was standing behind him alongside Dipper, Soos and Melody. “What now?”

“Meh, don’t ask me”, Stan replied indifferently. “I’d say smoke the little rat right outta its nest. Got a fireplace right here and everything. But nobody ever listens to me in these things, so whadya know.”

“Well”, Ford said, “leaving the prospect of smoking him out aside, you may have a point. We shouldn’t simply let him do and act as he sees fit. Perhaps we should try to force him down somehow.”

“We could suck him out with a leafblower”, Melody suggested cheerfully.

“Yeah, dude!” Soos joined in. “Or we could use a hose. Works best with the gnomes, that one!”

“Uhh…” Mabel looked at them with a confused frown. “Guys, don’t you think that’s a bit too much? With his injuries and all…”

“Wait, what?” Melody looked at her, then Soos, then Ford. “What injuries?”

“Oh yea, this smart guy broke the asshole’s wrists after he tried to escape”, Stan jerked out before Ford had time to answer. “Probably the reason why he’s in there, too.”

Ford cringed at his harsh wording. “Stanley, for the love of… How many times do I need to tell you to mind the language in front of the kids? And a little diplomacy would’ve been nice altogether, don’t you think?”

“What?” Stan retorted, spreading his arms. “I may have spent half my life lying through my teeth, but we live under the roof of these two, for god’s sake. Not gonna sugarcoat anything for them, let alone start covering _your_ screwups, that’s for sure. I’ve got plenty of my own to take care of.”

An awkward silence fell into the room. Desperately trying to avoid looking at the couple, Ford shifted his gaze towards the chimney again. “Bill! This is my last warning. If you refuse to come down the chimney right now, I will drag you down by force.”

“No, Stanford. Oh, no, you won’t.” There was an iron clang in Melody’s voice no one in the room had heard before, and it drew everyone’s attention to her the moment she spoke out. “You’ve used enough force as it is. If he wants to stay in the chimney, then he can for darn sure stay in the chimney for as long as he wants. He needs treatment, but even more than that, he needs space.” She paused for a moment. “Well, uh… He doesn’t really have much _space_ in there… In any case, I think we should leave him alone for now.”

“Yeah… Yeah, dude”, said Soos in an uncharacteristically meek tone of voice. “Mel’s right. We should back off for now. Give him a breather or something.” He scratched his head. “Is that right? Does he actually breathe? Does he have a mouth? If not, how does he drink tea? Through his eye? Where does it go? Oh, dudes. So many mysteries, so little time.”

The heavy atmosphere left Ford no choice but to comply. One by one the others left the room, each throwing uncomfortable glances at him staring bleakly at the fireplace, until it was just him and Soos.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Ford”, Soos told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can leave him here. I’ll put some chicken wire around the fireplace so he won’t scurry off. The thing about his arms, though…” For a short while, the grip on his shoulder was a little less amiable.

“Not cool, dude.”

 

* * *

 

Bill didn’t come down for two full days; and when he finally did, it was due to a chain of events no one could’ve expected.

On the evening of the second day of his hiding, Soos peeked in the chimney with a smile beaming enough to compete with the faint glow from above.

“Hey, Mr. Bill, sir!” he chimed – since he wasn’t sure of the demon’s age, he’d decided to play safe and speak like what he assumed would appeal to someone sporting a bowtie and a top hat. “How’s it going up there? Wanna guess who just got the summer’s hottest rap album today? Soos did! That’s me, dog! And _whooo’s_ gonna have the honor of giving it a first listen? That’s _you_ , dog! Thought you could use some ill beats to pass the time. I gotta go back to the shop for a bit, but I’ll give you a headstart like the good sport I am. Enjoy!”

In the matter of less than five minutes, the last customers of the Mystery Shack were startled out of their boots by a torrent of curses and shrill screeching from the backroom.

“ _AAAAAGHHHH!_ _For the love of lunacy and the end of reason, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!”_

A good half an hour later the same mindless screaming alerted Ford from his darkened state of mind as he was making his way back to the Shack. He’d spent the last two days holed up in the bunker, avoiding the other family members and the awkward glances that constantly followed his presence; even Abuelita seemed to be silently judging him more harshly than usual.

The time spent in his underground base hadn’t been particularly fruitful; he’d gotten some calculations down concerning possible patterns in the crossdimensional anomalies’ movements on his radar, but anomalies were unpredictable by nature, and he was reaching a point where he would need Bill’s contribution, willing or not, to proceed further. His growing distress over whether there was no longer anything he could do that wouldn’t only make the demon less cooperative was swept away by the all-too-familiar uproar he could hear all the way to the forest’s edge. At least the silence had once again passed, and whether or not it was a good thing he would just have to find out.

As he rushed into the backroom, he was met with a bizarre sight; ash and soot were scattered all over the floor, and sitting by the fireplace was Soos, holding a smudgy, shrieking triangle demon awkwardly on his lap while wrapping an abundant amount of duct tape around his broken arms.

“Aand we’re done! Wasn’t so bad, was it? They won’t hurt so much if you don’t try to move them. Now we just need to – oh, hey, Mr. Ford! Look who’s back!”

The moment Ford’s name slipped past Soos’ lips, Bill flinched and scrambled up, heading back into the chimney through a small gap in the chicken wire Soos had let him out of – only to be halted midair by the chains glowing crimson around his ankles.

“Bill, enough. You know that is futile.” Ford turned to Soos, who was gathering the sooty towels he’d apparently tried his best to clean Bill with into a pile. “Soos, how…”

“…I got him out? Well, actually you should thank Big Y and his newest album, Bad Place For Kids. Dropped the beat so hard the triangle came down along with it, which wasn’t really what I was going for, but, heh! Result’s a result, and music is a matter of taste, anyway.”

Bill, still struggling against the chains with his taped up arms hanging uselessly around, let out something between a snarl and a groan. “You call that music? _Ugh!_ It’s a cheap imitation of higher chaos is what it is! It’s an insult! You mortals should stick to the harmonious vanilla you’re so fond of and leave the art of asymmetry to those who _know what they’re doing_!”

“Rude, dude.” Soos shrugged, looking slightly displeased. “This album has been topping the lists for weeks. FYI.”

“Hah! So you meatsacks are collectively trying to grow an edge, huh? Well, how about I take a little trip to my realm to bring you the _real_ business – high definition quality sound straight from the Big Rave you guys threw some century back, mixed by professionals into a perfectly nightmarish compilation of spattered brain fluids, crippling terror and elemental molecules cracking in –“

“Bill, that’s enough!” Ford cut him off sharply, hands starting to tremble with slowly building rage.

Nothing had changed. He was just as powerless as before.

Bill did, however, startle and fall silent at his shout, but not for long; when he spoke, still facing the other way, his voice was so uncharacteristically low it almost came off as distorted. “Or you’ll do what? _Break my legs as well_?”

His tone was unreadable, and Ford couldn’t tell whether his words were an infuriated dare or a question stifled with fear.

“He’s got a point, Mr. Ford”, Soos said with a nervous smile, hands raised in a treaty of peace. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, you know? Wait… That was probably the worst choice of words in this case. What I mean is Mr. Bill is just a big talker, no offense, and you really should give him a break... Wait, _wait_ … Dudes, I am _not_ doing this right today.”

“I understand what you mean, Soos”, Ford said reassuringly and turned back to his captive. “Bill, don’t be ridiculous. I am not going to break your legs. You heard my apology, did you not? I will not put you through any more unnecessary pain.”

“Good, good, that’s what I wanted to hear”, Soos put in. “Whew, that’s a relief. Cool, this is cool. Now you don’t have to go back to the chimney, right, Mr. Bill?”

Bill was trembling. “Shared and agreed, Question Mark”, he said then. “If I stayed huddled up there any longer, I might run out of ideas for new inventive ways to kill all of you.” He finally turned around, his eye gleaming with red fury. “And _you_ , old friend, are a special little treat on that plate. Scrumptious, even! _You_ I’m going to savor for a long time, save those pretty eyes of yours for the last. Maybe even let you take part in the meal itself. It’s a work in progress, but the longer you keep me here, the more time I have to plan the grand festivities for when I break free… You _will_ slip, just like you’ve done oh, so many times before, and when you least expect it – _bon appétit_ , Sixer.”

His ominously nonchalant tone left the room eerily quiet for a while. “Soos”, Ford then said, coldly, “bring me his cage.”

“Sorry”, said Soos, looking uncomfortable. “No can do. Still haven’t fixed it.”

“In that case, I will need to secure him on the bunker’s work desk with duct tape for the night.”

“Uhh, well, so you see…” Soos sighed and stepped between him and Bill with a determined look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ford, but I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. The dude is hurt. Badly. He needs to be looked after. And I won’t let you put him in a cage, strap him on a table, or shut him inside a dark bunker. Mr. Bill is staying here, just like the rest of us. Mr. Mystery, and the current owner of this house, has spoken.” He hit his chest with his fist. “Ouch.”

 _Don’t get in my way._ It was a fleeting thought, but it left a bitter taste of shame in Ford’s mouth. _Such ingratitude… You’re staying in their house, for goodness’ sake. He’s only trying to help._ “I… I understand”, he said. “Will you at least let me take him to my room? I may have been wrong in my methods of keeping him under control, but he is still my responsibility.”

“Uh, sure, of course!” Soos said, taking his fez off apologetically. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes, Mr. Ford. Do your thing, as long as… you don’t hurt the triangle dude. But you already promised you won’t do that, so… It’s cool. It’s cool, dog.”

Ford gave him a smile, although with very little strength in it. “Thank you, Soos.”

 

* * *

 

For a rare chance, Bill agreed to follow Ford to his room without being dragged by force. Ford was glad he did, as he was as reluctant to lay his hands on the demon as the aforementioned was abhorred by the thought of being touched by him. In addition, he was relieved Soos’ initial offer to carry Bill upstairs for him wasn’t needed in the end – he really didn’t want anyone else to come near his room, fearing his shameful secret might sneak out of the door somehow.

Ford stood still in the doorway for a long time before while Bill slipped in from behind his back and settled inexpressively on the table. He hadn’t been to his room since… whatever on Earth it was that had happened there two days ago. He’d managed to keep it out of his mind so far, but now…

This all was a mess. Nothing had gone as he’d planned, and it was all Bill’s fault.

Frustration building up in his chest again, he slammed the door shut and sat on his bed. “You do realize you’re only making this more difficult for the both of us, don’t you?” he huffed angrily. “All these ridiculous little antics you’ve been busying yourself with will not change the situation. You are and will be bound to me regardless of whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, geez!” Bill scoffed. “Well, Brainiac, amidst all the pathetic nonsense you were spouting some time ago, you were right about one thing.” There was a pause, and Ford suspected it was merely for the dramatic effect. “I’m really starting to buy into this revenge idea of yours.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never said a word about revenge.”

“Ha! Maybe it wasn’t not your exact choice of words, but that’s what you were getting at with all that fancy talk about humanity and spite, am I right?”

This time it was Ford’s turn to let out a bitter laugh. “No, Bill… No, you certainly aren’t right. In fact, you’re completely on the wrong track.” His voice gained a harsher tone. “You appear to think you’re still superior to me, and refuse to see that you are in my control. Your arms hurt, do they not? You are tired and uncomfortable after staying in a cramped chimney for two days, aren’t you? _You fear me_ , don’t you? You are uncertain and lost, incapable of understanding what’s happening to you. This could be so much easier for you if you simply stopped your mindless rebellion, and the sole reason for you to continue is that you don’t know what else to do.”

His words were met with silence.

With a sigh, he stood up and switched off the lights. He’d had enough of this discussion; however, before laying himself down to sleep, he had one more thing to add.

“Things change, Bill. And the way you are now, you can’t deal with that change.”

 

* * *

 

_“Things change, Stanford Pines…”_

_“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be!”_

_“I’ll make you talk. It’s only a matter of time!”_

_“What do you think, pals? Another five hundred volts?”_

**_“Things change.”_ **

****

Ford woke up with a violent gasp, only to find himself facing his adversary as though the nightmare had never ended. Bill was floating over him, eye ablaze, awkwardly holding a pair of scissors tucked between his duct tape covered arms; the blades were pointed dangerously at Ford’s throat, and the faint glow of the Blood Chains was the only thing keeping him from advancing further.

After a few deep inhales to get rid of the dream’s afterimage, Ford reached his hand and swiftly took hold the scissors, throwing them to the corner of the room with a clatter. When he grabbed Bill’s bowtie to send him to the same direction, the demon suddenly spoke in a low tone.

“If you hurt me, I’m going to scream.”

Ford froze. He knew what would happen if Bill lived up to his threat. He didn’t want it to happen. He was tired of being judged by his family, a disappointment in their eyes… a failure.

Slowly, hesitantly, he let go.

He closed his eyes, readying himself for a torrent of sneer and mockery; instead, he there was a _thump_ as a warm weight settled roughly on his chest.

“Bill, what –?”

“Spite”, Bill growled; it was peculiar how his voice was somewhat muffled even though it reverberated through his entire body instead of a mouth. “This is it, isn’t it? You hate being near me, don’t you? Am I getting this right now? _Am I getting it right_?”

Ford didn’t care to answer. He was too exhausted to do anything about it, or even think.

He placed his arm over his eyes and hoped to sleep.

_Things change._

It had only now occurred to him… that perhaps he was no better than Bill.


	8. Arc I | Entry No. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art Post: http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/151444350864/

* * *

 

_Entry No. 8._

_What is he planning? Why is he behaving this way?_

 

* * *

 

The nightmares replaying the apocalypse continued throughout the night, but they were now lacking the edge of terror that would startle him awake. The weight on his chest never left his awareness even in the deepest state of sleep he managed to fall in. Perhaps it was a reminder of the reality he would have to face again as soon as he woke up. Maybe he preferred nightmares; at least he knew what to expect.

In the morning, strangely enough, he found himself feeling more well-rested than in weeks – but it didn’t make what alerted him awake any less unpleasant.

“HYAAAARGH! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS! LET ME OUT, _LET ME OUT!_ ”

Ford bolted up from his bed, hand reflexively flying to the side of his thigh where his gun holster used to be. Bill had moved from atop his chest to the other side of the room and was now having nothing short of a fit, slamming himself sideways on the stained glass window and screaming at a note that was less his usual mindless rage and verged more on actual hysteria.

“B… Bill! Be quiet, for god’s sake!” Ford hissed while clumsily reaching for his glasses on the night stand. “You’ll wake up every living soul in this —“

“NO, YOU SHUT UP! _SHUT UP!_ STOP TALKING! LET ME OUT _NOW_!”

Ford frowned. He’d expected this to quickly turn into a continuation of last night’s blackmail, but there was no sign of menace in Bill’s structureless retort. This was the first time since the resurrection when he’d seen him upset enough to forget his verbal shtick.

Bill’s loud floundering against the window was suddenly halted as the chains materialized around his ankles.

“We will head downstairs shortly”, Ford said calmly. “However, if you don’t stop screaming right this instant, I will have no other choice but to take you back to the bunker. And do not think for a minute that the rest of the family wouldn’t approve of my decision should it come to that.”

The long silence that followed astonished Ford even further, and not only because he’d expected a reply – he could now see Bill was trembling – no, _shaking_ – from head to toe, violently enough to make the links of the chains clatter against one another.

Was he… afraid?

…Impossible.

“Is this about your arms?” he then asked. “I wouldn’t expect them to be back in working condition overnight. However…”

He hadn’t yet discovered how correspondent the functions of Bill’s corporeal form were to the organic systems they were meant to imitate, but by now it was clear that the demon could feel pain intense enough for his body to shut down and fall unconscious for a time. The duct tape wrappings only served to prevent him from mangling his wrists further – it was likely that without his regenerative powers, Bill wouldn’t be able to heal any damage done on his physical body, nor would it heal itself due to the lack of organic matter.

There was no answer, but from the reflection on the window Ford could see Bill’s eye widening with an enraged expression.

He bit his lip. His original plan had been to only give Bill access to his powers when he had something to gain from it himself. Departing from this principle felt like resignation, but did he have a choice? “All right. I suppose I will have to fix y–”

“ _Stop_.”

“What?” Whatever reaction Ford had expected to his offer, this wasn’t it. “What… do I need to stop? Explain yourself.”

“Don’t you try to play games with me, you weak little man!” Bill’s eye flashed red as he suddenly turned to face him. “ _I am the games!_ Every single trick you’re trying to pull you’ve learnt from _me_! I know what you’re doing, and now you’re going to _stop_! _Stop! ST- UUURGH!_ ”

Ford was taken aback by the sudden rise in his frenzy; the demon was making even less sense than usual, and he’d never seen him in such a terror-stricken state of agitation before. There was something in the way his gaze flickered all across the room that reminded him of a cornered animal.

“Bill, I told you to keep quiet”, he said sternly, raising his own voice a little. “I don’t understand what exactly you’re asking me to stop. As you can see, I am not doing anything. Well, except talking to you. Is that it? Are you telling me to stop talking?”

“YES! Stop talking, stop standing there, stop making this happen, just _stop!_ ”

“You know your demands are outright ridiculous!” Ford shouted, his patience once again running short. “I’ve already made it clear several times that the Blood Chains cannot be undone for as long as I live!“

“Then _DIE LIKE YOU MORTALS DO!”_ Bill screamed right back. “You’re doing nothing, you say? HAH! You’re doing _everything!_ You’re responsible for all of this! You! **YOU!** Fix my arms, huh? _Fix?_ Keep your gullible little herd happy with your flimflam for all I care, but don’t you dare – don’t you _dare_ talk to me like you weren’t the one doing this! …FUCK!”

Did he just…? Well, that was a first. “If you’re referring to me being the original cause of your injuries, I –“

_“Don’t you dare patronize me with that cheap human linguistic temporal wordplay bullshit!”_

“Wh… ‘Temporal wordplay’? What on Earth are you talking about? You’re not making any sense!”

_“I TOLD YOU TO STOP TALKING!”_

“YOU’RE NOT IN A POSITION TO TELL ME ANYTHING OF SORTS, CIPHER!”

The moment Ford realized the volume of his own voice had slipped out of control, the door crashed open with an amount of force only his brother had the guts to use indoors.

“All right, time for you both to SHUT YOUR YAPS! Do you even realize what time it is? I could hear this three-sided pain in the ass all the way to the guesthouse!”

“Yes, I know what time it is, Stanley!” Ford threw a furious glance at his captive. “I have asked him to be quiet several times, but he won’t –“

“Then you take the bastard elsewhere, you moron!” Stan snarled. “Do I really have to remind you that one of the residents has a little one on the way, and she – oh, speak of the devil. Mel, give him a piece, will ya?”

Embarrassment and frustration forced Ford’s eyes down at the sight of Melody’s sleepy face peeking from behind Stan’s back. “Ah… Good morning, Melody”, he greeted tamely. “I’m terribly sorry for waking you up. Bill –“

“Nah, it’s fine”, Melody swished off his apology amidst her yawn. “There’s going to be a lot of waking up to screaming in the near future, so this works for a dress rehearsal. I don’t mind if nobody else does.” Stan’s vague muttering implying someone else _did_ mind went ignored as she directed her eyes at Bill, whose struggles against the chains keeping him still were accompanied by constant stifled screams, and squinted.

“Stanford, you didn’t…”

“I did not lay a finger on him”, Ford proclaimed, irk in his tone turning even more audible as Bill jittered in a strange manner at his words. “And if he tries to claim anything otherwise, he’s lying through his teeth.”

“Oh, I believe you, don’t worry”, Melody said quickly. “But he’s clearly upset, and I don’t think yelling is going to help. Hey, would a cup of tea make you feel better?” she then asked Bill with a reconciling smile. “You liked that Jasmine tea, right?”

The triangle stared back at her, looking suspicious but less agitated than just seconds ago. “Eh, it was acceptable. But don’t you have anything less formal for morning tea? Like condensed death gurgles of a malformed infant from the Qin dynasty?”

Melody snorted. “It’s Jasmine or that cheap stuff they sweep off floors at the tea factory. Take it or leave it.”

“Should’ve guessed. _Humans._ ” Bill rolled his eye. “I’ll take the Jasmine.”

 

* * *

 

As they moved to the kitchen, it became clear that Bill’s fit had woken up the whole household: Soos was already bustling with the breakfast, and one half of the younger twins soon shuffled down the stairs in their wake.

“Morning”, Dipper said as he sat down at the table, smoothing his ruffled hair to cover his forehead out of an old habit. “Mabel’s awake, but she’s still in bed and refuses to get up. Grunkle Stan, you know the drill.”

Stan got up with a resigned sigh and headed upstairs with slouching steps. “Sure.”

After rolling his eyes, Dipper turned to his other great uncle, who looked a bit puzzled over the short exchange that had just taken place. “Morning, Great uncle Ford. Did something…” His voice was energetic, but he couldn’t hold back a wide yawn that broke out mid-sentence, “…uhm, excuse me… Did something happen in your room?”

Ford threw an angry glance at Bill, who was sitting beside his own additional table again with his taped arms awkwardly sprawled across it. “No, nothing happened. I woke up to him making a scene for no discernible reason, and that is all there was to it. I did not touch nor provoke him in any way.”

“Oh, right”, Dipper nodded. “Of course.” His eyebrows raised slightly at his great uncle’s defensive tone; for a moment he looked like he wanted to say something, but the strange atmosphere in the room quickly pressed his mouth back shut.

As Dipper shifted his focus on his morning cereal instead, Ford kept his eyes on the triangle for a long while with a bitter grip in his gut. Bill would lie. He was sure of it – he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t done it already. He had the perfect chance to accuse Ford of something, turn the others against him, cause chaos as he always did.

Yet the demon sitting meekly on the corner of the dining table, still oddly jittery and avoidant of his gaze, completely disregarding the chance to take control of the puppet strings that were practically being offered to him on a silver plate, was the direct opposite of what he’d expect from Bill Cipher.

Was he just biding his time?

His bleak thoughts were interrupted as Melody walked in with a teacup and carried it over to Bill’s table. “Here you go. I tried to do the thing with the spoon, but I couldn’t get it to float, so…” She smirked. “This’ll have to do.”

“ _Humans_ ”, Bill snarled again. His eye moved from the steaming cup of tea before him to his unmoving arms, and he shot a cranky look at Melody.

“Oh! Right, sorry. Here, let me… Uhh…” Melody picked up the cup, unsure what to do with it. Leaning towards Ford, she whispered from the corner of her mouth: “Stanford, how does he drink?”

“He has an ability to turn his eye into a mouth”, Ford advised, fighting the urge to word his disapproval over Melody going as far as helping the demon drink his tea. “Bill, you could show some gratitude and be a little more cooperative with her.”

Yet again, Bill made a strange uneven motion with his body. It was like he was sitting on an anthill. “Gratitude! Hah! Not while _you’re_ within my range of vision I won’t! Close my eye for a second and come back with a half of my bricks missing? No thank you, sir! Momma Toots, could you be a dear and shoo this savage out of my sight? His hostile presence _triggers_ me.”

“Oh, for the love of –“ And there it was. Ford’s brows were knitted with impatience and worry as he glanced at Melody, who looked just as uncomfortable.

“Sorry”, she mouthed and cringed slightly before continuing aloud: “Uhm, well… There’s still plenty of heated water in the kettle, so why don’t you go make yourself a cup of tea as well?”

Ford couldn’t believe his ears. Bill had barely started his games, and he was already winning? “I…” he tried, but as Melody gave him an even more apologetic look and even Dipper did nothing but awkwardly avoid his gaze, he swallowed his protest with a frustrated huff. “All right, I will leave.”

“Good! Leave! For good, I hope! I’d appreciate it if you kept yourself at least fifty feet away from me for the rest o—mmhrgh! HEY! Watch where you’re pouring that tea, woman!”

“Sorry, sorry! So your eye doesn’t, uhm… I thought it was automatic. How… does it work exactly?”

“Sheesh… All right, watch and learn, kid.”

“…Oh my. That is… _weird_. Okay, uh, here we go…”

“No! Too hot, it’s still too hot!”

“Sorry!”

Ford felt as though he was watching a dog being wagged by its tail. It was ludicrous.

His grumpy expression as he made his way to the kitchen matched Stan’s, who stumbled down the stairs while giving Mabel a very arduous-looking piggyback ride. Something colorful sparkled across his forehead.

“I’m too old for this”, he muttered repeatedly. “I’m way too old for this…”

“Pfft! Too old, schmoo old! Your age is only as high as your hairline and wrinkles are hammocks for smiles!” Mabel proclaimed with a grin while finishing a sixth mini braid in Stan’s hair.

“This is your fault, Poindexter”, Stan grunted to Ford as the two passed him by. Upon a closer look, the glittery scribblings on his forehead spelled _MABELMOBILE_. “You’re paying all and any hospital bills this is gonna result in. All of them.”

If Ford had been in a slightly better mood, he would’ve asked what on Earth was going on; but in his current state of mind, he only heard the accusation, and his frown was even deeper than before as he grabbed the kettle and poured the remaining of what appeared to be Bill’s choice of tea in the mortal world.

The thought as well as the refined scent in the air only added to his annoyance.

When he returned to the dining room, he was met with a peculiar sight: on one side of the table sat Bill, with Melody holding his teacup for him and watching him drink with an expression of disturbed curiosity, and on the other side was Mabel, who was being fed sprinkle-covered pancakes by her now thoroughly braided grunkle.

Still clueless as to what was going on with the girl, Ford opened his mouth to ask, but was interrupted by another high-pitched shriek he felt like he’d never grow accustomed to.

“Aaahh! Toots, he’s drinking the same tea! _My_ tea! Unacceptable!”

His eye, back in its usual form, was glaring at Ford with an expression of sheer abhorrence.

Ford let his cup down on the table with a little more force than necessary. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Melody smiled patiently. “Come on now, at least finish your cup –“

“No! I’m not drinking anything _he_ does!”

“All right, that’s enough!” Ford snapped. “I’m sorry, Melody, but I can’t have him order me or any of us around. Bill, perhaps I was being naive expecting you to show gratitude, but I know you are capable of respect! At least try to be civil when someone is willing to ignore your crude nature and selflessly help you. Your childish hissy fits are uncalled for and causing everyone trouble!”

“Urrgh! How many times do I have to tell you to _stop talking_?” Bill was now squirming and kicking the small table, clumsily scratching at his sides with his tape-covered arms as if in a desperate attempt to cover his ears, if he had any.

His insensible antics only made Ford’s temper grow short. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but rest assured you will not achieve it by behaving like an unruly child!”

_“Stop patronizing me, you ignorant, inane flesh puppet!”_

Ford’s agitated retort was halted by a fist slammed against the table. “Stop yelling, both of you, or this will be the last you’ll see of Mabel Pines _forever_!”

Silence fell into the room in an instant; surprisingly, even Bill was alerted by the shout enough to quiet down.

“Wait”, Stan suddenly broke out. “ _Now_ you’re bringing out the forever card? Why didn’t _I_ get the forever card?”

“This summer was enough to do the job for you”, Mabel answered cheerfully. “You’re too easy to manipulate, Grunkle Stan.”

“…Dammit, the kid’s right. I’m losing my touch.”

Ford looked between his brother and the teenager sitting in her nightclothes with a smug look accompanying the bits of strawberry jam on her face.  He no longer had to wonder what the earlier fuss around Mabel had been about.

“Aand that makes the total number of blackmail attempts this morning… eleven”, Dipper counted with a bored tone. “Mabel, props for doing it for a good cause this time, but this needs to stop.”

“Power!” Mabel declared victoriously, ignoring her brother’s cranky remark. “Unlimited power!”

“Hey, I like where _this_ is going”, Bill put in. “Attagirl, Shooting Star! You’re truly an inspiration among your overly sentimental sadsack species.”

Ford bristled. “That isn’t even… Mabel, please don’t take that as a compliment”, he then said in an almost desperate tone as the girl shone with glee. The situation was slipping more and more out of his control – perhaps this was the sort of chaos he should’ve expected from Bill after all. “Look, Melody… I think it would be best if I took him back to the bunker for the time being.”

Bill gave the woman beside him a look of underlined misery. “Hear that, Toots? Oppression. Blatant, shameless oppression.”

“Oh dear. You boys are a piece of work, I’ll give you that”, Melody huffed. “Ford, I’m going to borrow you for a bit in the other room. You three can look after Bill for a moment, right?”

“Oh… Of course”, Dipper said immediately.

“Leave it to Mabel and the ultimate power of blackmail!” the other twin joined in with an almost maniacal grin. “Bill, if you don’t stay exactly where you –“

“You know that won’t work on him, Mabel.”

Whether it did or didn’t work in the end missed Ford’s ears as Melody dragged him into the living room.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, here we go. Nice and steady…”

Shame pressed Ford’s head down as his companion sat cautiously down on the couch with a heavy sigh. She had more than enough to worry about with the baby on the way, and his inability to keep Bill under control as he’d promised was almost unbearably mortifying. “Melody, I’m truly –“

“Wait, let me go first”, Melody interrupted him. “I wasn’t there at the time, but Soos told me about the history between you two. Uh, it was pretty rambly, but I got the main idea. You’ve been put through a lot, you’re angry, and I don’t blame you for that. I get you, I really do, but this constant bickering and shouting and fighting has to stop. I’m not going to bring this little dumpling –“ she patted her stomach, “– out into the world in the middle of this war zone.”

“I understand”, Ford nodded bleakly. He’d wondered when it would come to this. “I apologize for dragging the family into this. I will see if there is a place in which I can retreat for the rest of the summer. For now, the bunker will have to do.“

Melody held up her hands calmingly while looking a little startled herself. “Whoa, let me stop you right there. Did, did you think I was kicking you o- oh, Ford. Oh, no. Gosh, I’d… I’d never… Well, this is a bit awkward.” She crossed her hands on her stomach. “Look, I don’t blame you for bringing Bill back, or having him stay in our house, that’s not the problem. But I don’t think you’re going about this the right way.“

Ford frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it… seems a little pointless to just keep yelling at him, don’t you think? It’s been going on for weeks now, and it doesn’t seem to change anything. At all. So far it’s only driven him into provoking you enough to… you know.” Melody made a rather grotesque gesture mimicking the action of snapping something in half. “Don’t get me wrong”, she then added quickly. “You’re the genius here. Besides, I know nothing about the guy, and you’ve been dealing with him for, well, a very long time to say the least. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try a different approach this time around.”

“No, what you’re saying is probably true”, admitted Ford after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I may have been too narrow-minded with my means of handling Bill. However, I am clueless as to how else I should approach him. You must have noticed by now that any act of sympathy towards him will only go to waste, or worse, turn into a tool of manipulation in his hands.” He sighed. “Bill is a monster. He does not understand kindness.”

Melody gave him a long look. “I thought that was the point.”

The meaningful comment made Ford finally raise his gaze that had travelled aimlessly across the floor the entire time. She was right, astutely so. He’d formed his own intimidation tactic around a similar idea, only based on spite – but he had ignored another, very human concept that was likely to be beyond Bill’s comprehension.

He’d been so hellbent on claiming control over his captive that he’d forgotten the basic nature of said demon. Perhaps, all along, he should’ve been fighting chaos with chaos.

“Thank you, Melody”, he eventually said with a small smile. “Your insight never fails to amaze me.”

Melody blushed. “Aw, shucks. Oh, but hold that thought… Before we go back to the others, there’s another thing I need to ask you.” Her voice took a more serious note as she leaned towards Ford. “And I want you to be honest with this one.”

“Yes, certainly. What is it?”

“Well…” Melody crossed her arms, looking worried. “While you were in the kitchen, Bill kept muttering ‘it won’t stop’ and ‘he’s the one doing this’. I’m not sure what he meant by that, but… Say, are his wrists going to heal on their own?”

Ford’s frown deepened again. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea. However, I am holding back his regenerative powers, and I’m fairly sure releasing them temporarily would heal his wrists in an instant. In fact, I offered to heal him earlier this morning, but he… Well, I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I never got an answer implying one way or the other. He’s been very disoriented for some reason, even more so than usual.”

“I noticed”, Melody nodded with a little sharp note in her voice. “Spending two days in a cramped chimney with broken arms can do that. Stanford, you need to fix what you broke, whether he agrees or not. It’s the least you can do.”

Ford drew a deep breath. “I… suppose you’re right.”

 _Fix what you broke_. The harshness of her words stung, but it was true. They walked back in silence and stopped at the doorway of the dining room. Gazing at the demon who now seemed oddly passive and limp beside his little table, Ford swallowed down the last bits of reluctance to do what he had to do.

It was… the right thing to do.

He thought of the tears in Mabel’s eyes as he closed his own and let a knot in the strange power that tied him to Bill unfold. It only lasted for a few seconds.

“It’s done”, he said quietly. “He should be all right now.”

Melody looked at Bill, who had suddenly alerted and lifted his hands up, and nodded with a relieved smile.

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

As expected, Bill showed no sign of gratitude as Soos unwrapped his now healed arms – at first Ford had attempted to do it himself, but the triangle had made an extremely loud protest over the prospect of the man touching him. He wasn’t exactly surprised at this point; however, there was something in Bill’s behavior he was unable to point out that made it seem somewhat… uncanny.

While Bill was occupied with wiggling his released fingers in front of his bored-looking eye, Ford got a phone call from Fiddleford asking him to come over for a visit. The slightly impatient tone in the mechanic’s voice as he called it “urgent business” gave Ford no choice but to count himself out of the Pioneer Day theme picnic Mabel had planned to make the entire family participate in.

The girl had, of course, strongly disagreed with the timing of his visit to the mansion (“I wanted to come with you, he must have created at least fifteen new robots since the last time I was there!”). However, blackmail was out of the question this time: it was the upper hand she needed to save for her once-in-a-lifetime chance to force Stan into a pioneer costume, and it was an opportunity she couldn’t afford to let slip by.

“This is for the best”, said Dipper sagely over his sister’s wails of despair. “Time for your tyranny to come to an end.”

But when Mabel’s reply came in the form of a mocking fit of coughs that sounded suspiciously similar to “ _reverse CPR_ ”, he decided it was best to drop the sibling banter for the rest of the day.

Before the picnic they had to pick up a costume for Stan, and since they were going the same way, Soos offered to give Ford and his grudging companion a ride to the manor. Soon they were all cramped in the backseat of Stan’s old car, which the original Mr. Mystery had solemnly handed over to Soos along with the Shack.

As they weaved their way through the wagons and people making their devotion to the theme day as exaggeratedly apparent as possible, Ford glanced over to his fellow passengers. It was less than a year since Stan had reluctantly announced he’d leave the driving to Soos from now on. He hadn’t given a reason to his sudden retirement, but from his occasional slips while seafaring Ford knew his brother’s eyesight wasn’t what it had used to be.

He was getting old. They both were – but despite them having less than 20 minutes of age difference, the signs of aging were much more apparent in Stan, who was technically younger than his twin. Aside from the occasional moments of fatalistic dread that having learned the year and cause of your death unavoidably resulted in, Ford had never given much thought to his age. He didn’t _feel_ old, just more mature and experienced, and he couldn’t help but wonder how different his brother’s self-perception was from his in this regard.

Perhaps the years and decades had simply changed Stanley more than him.

And then, sitting on the front seat with an expression of exalted pride like the queen of everything on her throne, there was Mabel. In the four years after Ford’s return from the portal, the grand niece he’d learned to know and love had barely changed at all. It was baffling, even, how she’d managed to maintain her bubbling personality and innocence through the tremors of adolescence… not to mention every normality-breaking cataclysm and danger she’d faced in Gravity Falls. Not even the horrors of Weirdmageddon could shake the joyful bedrock that was Mabel Pines.

The smile on Ford’s face darkened and flickered out as his eyes strayed almost instinctively over his shoulder. The demon he was bound to had absolutely refused to sit anywhere near Ford, who, after having already spent most of his energy sparring with him throughout the morning, had decided to give up on the negotiations before they’d even started and simply thrown him in the trunk. He’d received surprisingly few complaints about his rough-handed arrangement.

What about Bill? Would he ever change? Or had he… changed already?

There was definitely something different in Bill’s demeanor as they were dropped off at the foot of the hill upon which the former Northwest Manor stood. His gaze wandered aimlessly around as if searching for anything to focus on so he wouldn’t have to look at the man walking before him. Even his constant protests were nowhere to be heard, and his motions seemed even more fidgety than before, almost… nervous?

Straightforwardness and honesty were just about the last means of approaching Bill Ford could ever think of. But perhaps it was time to take the most unobvious road. Fight chaos with chaos.

“Bill”, he started, making a conscious effort to keep his tone as unintimidating as possible. “Are you… afraid of me?”

For a second, Bill stopped still and snorted. “Hah! Well, that bit of primitive dominance sure went straight to your head! What exactly do you take me for, big guy? I’m the greatest and most arrogant megalomaniac you can find in this dimension or the next! And with the most class, too, if I may add! I’m all your favorite superlatives in one snappily dressed package! Just because you got a little taste of the sweet rush of physical coercion you mortals are all about d-doesn’t… make…”

Alerted by the unexpected mid-sentence break, Ford turned to look at the triangle who had suddenly frozen still in a strange, curled up position; he was staring blankly ahead, and his fists clenched and loosened in turns almost convulsively.

“Bill?”

“…d… doesn’t make you in any way superior to me, you delusional f-fleshling freak!” Bill shrieked, quickly snapping out of whatever had distracted him completely. As he realized his unwanted stray of attention, he lashed into a haphazard fit of rage. “And if YOU think you can hold me down with your pitiful little fleshcage tricks, you’ve got another thing coming! This… _this_ … is nothing, you hear me? _Nothing! I have lived one trillion years! I have seen every dimension, every timeline, every interspace of your pathetic molecules disintegrating into the dust you all bite in the end! Don’t make me laugh! This sad attempt to limit the unlimited is nothing but a joke! It has no effect on me! NO EFFECT! I’M NOT… AAARGHH! STOP IT, STOP IT, **STOP!** ”_

“Bill, calm down! What the hell are you talking about? What’s gotten into you?” Ford shouted – but in reality, he wasn’t quite as clueless about what was going on as he made himself out to be. This had been happening for the entire day, and his brain was slowly starting to recognize the gleam in Bill’s eye, and how every stammer he made coincided with his stare stopping for a brief second at the researcher’s lips. The signs were all there, and they matched everything preceding the incident a few days ago he’d tried very hard to keep out of his mind, but… Bill couldn’t _possibly_ –

“No.” The word escaped his throat at the first clawing movement Bill suddenly made towards him. “No, no, no.” He willed him to stop, but the chains didn’t comply – why didn’t they comply? – so he raised his hands as a weak defence against the triangle demon approaching him with a strange, enraged… _desperate_ look in his eye.

“No, Bill. Don’t do this”, Ford muttered again. His head was spinning. Why didn’t the chains appear? Had his control over them wavered when he’d released a part of Bill’s powers? But that was impossible, that… “Stop.”

“ _You_ stop.” Hands clutched at the sides of his face. The grip was tight enough to hurt, and yet… _Why didn’t the chains stop him?_ “ _You_ stop this, you lying piece of soft tissue… You… disgusting… soft lump of flesh…”

No, Bill didn’t appear to be afraid of him… Ford, however, as the furious stare glued to his lips started to slip shut, suddenly found himself _terrified_.

“Bill, NO!” He shoved the demon roughly away, keeping him as far away as his arms could reach. There was a surge of relief when the chains finally materialized around Bill’s arms and legs; but it quickly washed off at the sight of them flickering in and out of existence in front of his eyes like a broken hologram. What the hell was going on?

“This… This is insane!” he stammered, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he desperately tried to focus on keeping the chains intact. “I have no idea what you’re trying to do, but it, it has to stop!”

Strangely – and fortunately – enough, Bill hadn’t caught on the man’s struggle to maintain his control over him. He seemed to be very… distracted. He squirmed weakly in the twelve-fingered grasp, and suddenly Ford became very aware of the glow and heat radiating from the metallic surface that now felt almost alive, like there was faint electricity flowing through it.

The demon tensed at his words. He was expecting a furious retort, but what came out was a weak, stifled whimper. The sound of it sent sparks of that same electric current spread through the pads of Ford’s fingers.

He realized he was shaking.

“Th… Then why don’t you just _stop it!_ ” Bill managed to grunt at last, gasping for breath like he was about to choke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about – you’re the one who, I’m – I’m not doing anything!”

“OF COURSE YOU ARE! I’M NOT DOING IT, I DON’T WANT THIS, IT HAS TO BE _YOU!_ ”

“What? That’s absurd!” All of this was absurd. Nothing made sense. “D-do you think I… Oh, good god…” He felt an odd twist in the pit of his stomach at the frenzied accusation suddenly flashing through his memory. _You made this form want you on purpose, didn’t you, you self-absorbed freak_? “You think I’m c-causing this… this _scene_ you’re making… on purpose? You, you’re out of your mind! There is no way I could, I would never… I don’t _want_ this, Bill! I don’t want any of this!”

_“THEN WHY IN THIRTEEN GAPING VISCERAL HELLS DID YOU RESURRECT ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?”_

Ford startled violently. He was back in control within seconds: the crimson red shackles wound themselves tight around Bill’s limbs, rending him completely immobile. With an uneven breath, Ford finally released his grip.

“I have already told you my reasons”, he said quietly. “And for as long as you do not understand them, you won’t stand a chance to truly challenge me.”

Bill glared at him; anger was back to being the dominant emotion twisting his scarce facial features. “You contriving sack of meat”, he hissed. “This is sick. _You_ make me sick.”

“No, Bill.” Ford took a hold of the demon’s chains and started to drag him up the hill towards the mansion. “You may feel sick, but I have nothing to do with it. Your physical sensations are your own.” He fell silent for a moment, and then added: “There is no such thing as full control over yourself or the others. That is something you need to learn about the mortal world.”

Bill let out a wheezing noise that was probably something between a growl of frustration and derisive laughter. “Hah… Whatever floats your goat, human. In exchange, how about I’ll teach you a thing or two about immortality? …You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

The Northwest Manor had met quite a change since Fiddleford McGucket had claimed it as his property. The foreboding gates had been removed, granting the citizens of Gravity Falls free access to the front yard that used to be a vast, pompous garden but now resembled a futuristic amusement park. Populated by robots and automatons of all shapes and sizes, some of which were quirky enough to compete with the bizarre sights of the Mystery Shack, Fiddleford’s open-air workshop has become a popular tourist attraction. Had it not been for the man’s already vast wealth and lack of interest in further profit, he would’ve made a rather overpowering rival to the current Man of Mystery.

Fortunately this was not the case, and as Fiddleford lumbered to greet them at the front door, there was nothing but the warmth of old friendship.

However, his expression strained visibly as his eyes shifted from Ford to the captured demon still completely wrapped up in chains.

“Ah’ see you drag’d another ol’ friend with ya”, he said and let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Like a man and his shadow, eh? Whowee, brings me back.”

Ford let his gaze wander uncomfortably; the prospect of coming along hadn’t even crossed his mind. “I, uh, I apologize. I assumed it would be appropriate to bring him with me… Seeing how he is in all likelihood the main concern of this urgent business you proposed. Isn’t that right?”

“Well… Sure, sure”, Fiddleford nodded, threw a last awkward side glance at the triangle demon twitching angrily in his shackles, and sighed. “Ah’ reckon three ain’t a crowd in a house this big. Follow me, ah’ got somethin’ prepared for ya.”

Trailing Bill in his wake like a strange, partially deflated balloon animal, Ford followed the mechanic up a case of stairs and through a few long corridors. The numerous framed photos of Fiddleford with his son and what seemed to be a newborn granddaughter covering the walls brought a warm smile on Ford’s lips. For a moment he wondered if Mabel had succeeded in forcing Stan into a pioneer costume after all. It would’ve been a sight to see.

“Here we go”, Fiddleford said as he led them to another workspace – he must’ve had quite a lot of those to use for all the different projects he spent his retirement days working on. This one appeared to be reserved for smaller trinkets and computing technology. “Ya see, Stanford, butterfly nets and sharp angles don’t go together very well, git? And with all due respect, old friend, but ah’ got better things to do than run ‘round town chasin’ skeletons and other wangdoodles skippin’ outta yer closet.”

Ford held back a cringe of embarrassment. He’d almost forgotten how thorny his old friend tended to be with his subtle expressions of disapproval.

Before he could form another apology, Fiddleford reached for something on his work desk and held it up. It looked like a tiny electronic bracelet. “So ah’ went ahead and crafted this lil’ thingamabob to save us both some trouble. This one’s fer Cipher, and this… is fer you, Ford.” He handed the researcher a similar device, only larger and a little less sturdy in design. “Ah’ set the range to 500 feet if that sounds all right with ya. It’ll let ya know right away if yer pal’s on the run.“

Ford held the pair of devices in his hand; despite its rather heavy looks, the material was extremely light, and upon a closer inspection, he could see intricate carvings depicting an optic pattern slightly different from that normally associated to Bill Cipher. “A monitoring bracelet, is it? This is… quite a fascinating design.”

The mechanic grinned. “Ah, ‘s the tenth angel from one o’those animey pict-chas. Sahaquiel or whachamacallit. Got a little carried away there, heh. Send the Ramirez feller m’regards, wont’cha?”

“Thank you, Fiddleford, I truly appreciate this”, Ford said as he attached his own unit to his wrist with a faint click. “I am sure it will be of great help.”

“Least I can do, Stanford.” For a moment, Fiddleford’s smile disappeared. “And even a fool like m’self ain’t fool enough to let yer muse run free after what he done.”

Ford’s hands, now fastening the other part around the furiously gnarling triangle demon’s ankle, froze in place. “He… isn’t my muse, Fiddleford”, he then said sternly, unable to completely cut the bitter edge of his voice. “As implied by this device of yours, he is my prisoner. Not a muse.”

“Ah’ see how it is, Ford, I ain’t blind as a bat.” But he could see in Fiddleford’s eyes that he wasn’t convinced.

After ensuring Bill’s bracelet was properly attached, he turned to face his past working partner and let out a heavy sigh. “Is there a spare room I could safely lock Bill in for a while? I need to talk to you in private.”

Fiddleford presented him with a slant smile, which might have gotten even wider at the sound of Bill’s annoyed shriek. “Ah’ thought you’d ne’er ask.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, sweet criminey. You gotten yerself into a helluva pickle, eh?”

Ford stared into his cup of coffee that, as he’d expected, was way too bland for his tastes. “I guess you could say that, yes. But I had to do it. There was no other choice.” He raised his gaze for the first time since he’d begun his explanation, fearful of how his friend would react. “Please, you need to believe me.”

He felt like he couldn’t bear yet another rejection.

To his great relief, there was nothing but grave sympathy in Fiddleford’s eyes as they met his. “Ah’ believe every word, Stanford. But hear me out. Yer shoulders may be wide, but ah’ don’ reckon they’re wide enough to carry the fate of the whole world… for the second time.”

Ford cast his eyes down. He couldn’t expect the man who had witnessed his gravest mistakes closer than anyone else to trust his judgement entirely.

“Last time ended bad”, the mechanic continued with a visible shudder. “Real bad. An’ if ya ask me if ah’ ever hoped ah’ just declined that call from ya, I’d be lying through my teeth if I told you no. Ya know that, don’tcha? Ya seen all them dark places while you were gone, but ah’ gotta say I ain’t done much better m’self. But ah’ learned, Ford, ah’ done learned from all m’mistakes just like you said you done. Regret did done me no good, and I ain’t taking the easy way out no mo’.”

He reached out his good hand and placed it on the six-fingered one, squeezing it gently. “So ah’ wanna help ya. Ah’ know I ain’t as whiz as before, but I ain’t just a senile old man no longer, too. And ah’ reckon two mighty brains is always better than one, don’tcha think? We oughta be a team again, Stanford. Just you and me, like we oughta done all those years ago.”

“Fiddleford…” A warm wave of gratitude and affection took over Ford as the grasp on his hand became firmer, more trustful. This man had suffered from his mishaps and naivety perhaps more than anyone else… and yet there was no judgement, no condescension, no hostility. Just a sincere wish to help.

“Just like old times, eh?” Fiddleford smiled. “Two brainiacs out to save the world. If we do this together…” Suddenly his expression darkened. “…we can finally be rid of that monster once and fer all.”

…What?

All of a sudden, the grip on his hand was almost uncomfortably tight. “Truth be told… I-I ain’t gotten much sleep lately. It’s been hauntin’ me, Stanford. When that, that t-triangle ran into my net, for a moment… For a lil’ moment ah’ thought ah’ was a goner. I thought it was happenin’ all over again. And I a-ain’t gonna let it happen again. I ain’t going back to that mad lil’ corner of m’mind, y’hear?”

“Fiddleford, I don’t –“

“So I been makin’ plans”, the old man continued over him, his voice catching a strange, tense tone. He was starting to sound slightly hysterical. “All day, all night. Calculations, diagrams, blueprints, git? I been inventin’ a doohicky, ya see, to entrap the triangle fer good. We can extract his powers fer our own use. We can use’m to stabilize the weirdness magnetism. We can lock’m up in the machibibbery an’ never hafta look into that grisly damn eye again. We don’t need’m here. We don’t need’m, right, Ford? …Stanford?”

Ford wavered; he couldn’t decide whether to answer to his friend’s oddly gleaming stare or avert his eyes from it. “Well, I… I certainly appreciate the remarkable effort you’ve put into this, but… If we were to use the machine, what… would it do to Bill?”

Fiddleford stood up so fast his chair fell down with a clatter. “What’s it _matter_ what it does to him? He’s a monster, y’hear! A vile, detestable creature… Do ah’ really hafta remind ya what he is, Stanford? What he _done_? I… I-I mean”, he stuttered, the corner of his eye twitching slightly as he stared straight at his old working partner, “I giddit, y-you and yer muse… He always had that power over ya, din’ he? Ah’ bet he… Yer already…”

“I already told you, Fiddleford, _he isn’t my muse_ ”, Ford said, his voice suddenly gaining a sharp, almost furious edge. “And what exactly are you suggesting? Do you seriously believe Bill has gotten a hold of me? Is that what you think? That I am back to being his puppet, is that it?”

“Ya can’t blame me for thinkin’ that, Stanford, not after last time! I seen it in yer eyes! The way ya looked at’m… Sure it’s mighty different now, but ah’ see them signs again – it’s all there, but yer still blind to the way – the way he looks at _you_!”

Ford yanked his hand from the other man’s grip that, by now, had gotten nearly painful. “And what way might that be?” He asked, no longer bothering to hide the anger in his tone.

“Like…” Fiddleford hesitated; for a moment, the look in his eyes was alarmingly reminiscent of his lunatic old self. “Like yer still his puppet. Predatory-like, git? Like yer his… _property_.”

Dead silence fell into the room.

Ford took a step back, forcing a smile upon his face. “Fiddleford, I… I really, truly appreciate all you’ve done for me. The amount of thought and effort you’ve put into this is quite admirable, and I thank you for that. I will keep it in mind, however… I will have to decline your offer for now. I’m sure you understand.”

The mechanic’s smile was just as stifled as he put his hand encouragingly on Ford’s arm. “Ah’ understand mighty well, old friend. An’, heh… I ain’t going nowhere, see. The offer stands. So if ya ever have a change of heart, you know where t’find me.”

 

* * *

 

Ford was uncomfortably aware of Bill’s intense stare drilling into him as they left the manor.

Fortunately the joyous racket in Soos’ car offered him plenty of distractions. It appeared Mabel’s diligent blackmailing efforts had paid off after all, and Stan had begrudgingly dressed up for the picnic – albeit only having agreed to a pair of boots and a hat. His shabby oilcloth coat was a rather glaring stylebreaker in the rowdy group picture the family had taken. Mabel’s special little addition to the sepia photograph, a cheerfully colored drawing of Ford (accompanied by a tiny doodle of Bill) pasted right next to them, lit up a smile on the old researcher’s face.

And yet he couldn’t help but notice how it made him appear even more out of place in the picture than his anachronistically dressed brother.

As soon as they returned to the Shack, Ford decided to put Fiddleford’s monitoring device to a test. Mabel volunteered to keep an eye on Bill while he circled around the house’s nearby areas, checking whether large physical objects and different materials would cause interference to the device’s functions.

The girl’s already bright mood was elevated to downright exalted as Ford left his magnet gun in her hold “in case of an emergency”.

“I’ve set it on low power to react with the unique properties of the metal used in the Blood Chains, so it should be safe. If he tries to escape or does anything unexpected, anything at all, do not hesitate to pull –“

“Okay but what does this button do? Can I pull a star out of the sky with this? What happens if you shoot two magnet guns at each other at the same time?”

As always whenever Mabel got her hands on a potentially dangerous object, Ford didn’t know whether to laugh or be deeply concerned. “Well, they would… likely negate each other out. Please don’t attempt to pull a star out of the sky, not that it would work… Also, please try not to point the gun at my head.”

“Okey-dokey artichokey!”

And, as always, Ford went with the first option. “Well then, I will return shortly.”

As Ford made his way to the surrounding woods, Mabel gave a cheerful side glance at Bill, who was perching on the back porch with a moody frown deep enough to cover more than a half of his eye.

“Sooo… You know what time it is?” she asked with a grin.

Bill rolled his eye. “Pray tell.”

“Time for a nice little heart-to-heart with Mabel!”

“Well, you see, my little Star”, Bill gnarled, “that might prove a teensy bit difficult seeing how I don’t h— oh, come on!” he then flared up as Mabel suddenly slapped a heart-shaped sticker on his glowing surface.

“You do now!” the girl proclaimed with a sense of victory. “So! Whatchu thinkin’, sister? I’m thinking you and Grunkle Ford are finally hitting it off! He’s letting you stay outside the house, he didn’t tie you up this time and even healed your arms! You must be grateful he’s finally stopped acting like a dum-dum, am I right?”

Bill’s eye flashed red with fury. “Grateful? _Grateful?_ For what, exactly? _For fixing my arms he’d broken in the first place?_ ”

“True, true, but consider the following”, Mabel proposed in a diplomatic tone. “Of course he couldn’t undo what he’d already done, but he realized the error of his ways and did his best to fix the situation. Don’t you think that deserves –“

“You want a heart-to-heart, Shooting Star? Well, let me tell you _a world_ about your precious grunkle”, Bill interrupted her with an angry gleam in his eye. “He hasn’t fixed a damn thing. My wrists? Hah, that was just a little throwback to remind me of this miserable form he’s locked me into! In fact, I bet you an army of abominations that he broke them just so he can make himself look good by seemingly ‘fixing’ them _all the while keeping me in a ceaseless, intentional, endlessly disrupting state of mental anguish for the sole reason of driving me insane_!”

Mabel stared at him, even the slightest hint of her earlier beaming smile gone from her face. “You’re lying”, she then said. “Grunkle Ford would never do that.”

Bill snorted. “Newsflash, kid. I’m an omniscient being. Knowledge, data, facts, they’re the very essence of my nature. I don’t lie. _I never lie._ I twist, I bluff, I mislead, sure Bob! But I’m strictly and unequivocally incapable of giving you information that isn’t in any way connoted to the factual truth. Whereas your grunkle has deliberately – _URGH! HEY! Get that thing out of my face, you impudent brat!_ “

“You”, Mabel growled, tears in her eyes and voice shaking with a variety of different emotions as she shoved Bill roughly against the porch with the magnet gun she was holding, “you don’t lie? At all? So… Four years ago… You were actually going to k-kill me?”

“Well, duh! _Of course_ I was going to kill you!” Bill screamed while clawing at the barrel pressed against his front. “I explicitly and straightforwardly stated my intentions! What’s the bloody murder, Star? Did you forget that I could’ve just as well brought you back in the blink of my eye? Don’t make me laugh! Your mortal narrow-mindedness insults me! And what’s one little premature death when you’re doomed to disintegrate sooner or later either way?”

The look in Mabel’s eyes was now just as fierce as his. “That’s not the point”, she hissed. “You… you were going to kill me in front of my family just to get to Grunkle Ford? _Just to hurt him?_ ”

“Desperate times, kiddo! What can I say? Besides, if old Fordsy wasn’t aware of your inevitable mortal end and physical disintegration at that point, _it was about damn time he learned!_ ”

_ZOMPF._

Ford could hear his screeching all the way to the woods; but when he returned running with his pulse racing in his throat, he had to look around for a bit before finding a kicking and screaming triangle demon dunked into the nearest garbage can with the activated magnet gun stuck on his front.

His grand niece, however, was nowhere to be seen.


	9. Arc I | Entry No. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! A full-time job and other adult responsibilities have Riki a bit busy at the moment, so instead of making an art post for every chapter, we'll be getting occasional art compilations of several chapters from now on. ^^

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 9. I am growing weary of the everyday battlefield._

 

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, Melody, but I cannot let him continue like this.”

The signs of constantly waking up to shrieks that started and stopped at random hours for the third night in a row were starting to show in the whole family; everyone around the table was still half asleep, and Stan was missing from the company, having skipped breakfast in favor of an early morning nap.

“Eh”, Melody said vaguely. She seemed to be the least affected by Bill’s nightly fits. Endorphins, Ford assumed. “I mean, I’m fine, but…” She gave a worried eye at the teenagers swaying sleepily beside the table: Dipper, who usually didn’t drink coffee, was pouring the seventh spoonful of sugar in his cup, and Mabel was already on her second jug of Mabel Juice. She looked like she was about to skyrocket through the ceiling any minute.

The mother-to-be sighed. “Okay, I guess you’re right. It’s a little too much for the kids to handle.”

“I suggest I take him to the bunker for one night. Perhaps it will calm him down enough to –“

“No. Sorry, but the bunker is off the list”, came Melody’s strict retort. Lately she’d become less diplomatic with her involvement in handling Bill. Perhaps that, too, had something to do with her hormonal balance. “That cold and damp hole in the ground is like a medieval dungeon. He’s a little troublemaker, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve _that_.”

 _Well, aside from attempting global destruction through the means of blackmail and murder_ , Ford thought a little peevishly.

“Look, Ford, isolating him isn’t going to be a solution”, Melody continued. “We need to think about how to make this work in the long run. He’s going to be around, whether you like it or not. And by that I mean being around everyone, not just you.”

Ford turned his eyes toward the triangle demon sitting idly at his little table, his tea untouched and gone cold a while ago in front of him, staring out of the kitchen window unblinking. “Judging from how he keeps clawing at the door, I think my presence might be a crucial part of his problem”, he noted.

Melody looked at him. “You never mentioned him clawing at the door. You know… Back when I was little, our neighbors had this big, cranky housecat who would do the same thing. Get really antsy and scratch at the front door all night while making all the noise he could muster, you see? Maybe he just wants out.”

“If I had the cage, I could –“ Ford tried, but shut his mouth at the piercing stare of his companion.

“ _No cages_ , Stanford. He needs more space, and to be honest with you, that thing was a horrible idea to begin with.” Her expression softened a little at the resignation in Ford’s eyes. “Look, remember what we talked about a couple of days ago? That thing about kindness?”

“Yes, I do, but…”

“It’s a work in progress, but I think we’re getting results”, Melody said with a nod of confidence. “You know what? I’ll prove it. Hey, Bill!”

Bill startled out of his state of stagnation. “What’s new, Toots?” He gnarled in a strained tone as the woman approached him.

“I was just talking with Ford here, and we’re a bit worried about you. Could you tell us what the constant screaming fits are about?”

Bill looked uncharacteristically suspicious. “Just passing time.”

“You sure your arms still don’t hurt?”

“Depends on your definition of hurt, buttercup.  Why don’t you try to pour an entire ocean in a bottle of soda and figure out a word for how the water’s feeling?”

“Uh…” Melody crossed her arms, looking even more concerned than before. “Anyway… We’d like to let you move around the house freely on the condition that you stop screaming, if you could manage that.”

The triangle perked up instantly. “Sure! Wanna shake on it?”

“Huh, well, I can’t see why not –“

“Melody, DON’T!“ Ford interrupted with haste before Melody could grab Bill’s eagerly reached out hand.

She glanced at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong, Ford? You said he doesn’t have any of his powers, right?”

“Well – yes, that is true, but…” Ford gulped. He knew there was no ethereal binding to anything Bill said or did, but the mere sight of Bill holding out his hand was unsettling enough.

Bill, on the other hand, looked almost victorious. “Ha! Deal’s a deal, Sixer, handshake or not! You know how this works, I’ll hold up my end if you hold up yours. Whoo nelly, feels good to be back in business!”

Ford cursed silently in his mind.

Melody threw him an apologetic side glance. “Oh dear.” She leaned towards him and whispered: “Don’t worry, there’s no upper hand. Just let him think that for now. He’ll learn.”

 

* * *

 

Melody was half right: Bill gained no upper hand from his deal, but there were no signs of him learning anything from it, either.

When it came to verbal agreements, Bill was the master of not only finding loopholes in loose definitions, but also using those with no leeway to his own benefit. The only condition for him getting out of Ford’s room had been ceasing his haphazard screams – and that was the only thing he was willing to cross off his agenda.

Everything else from obnoxious laughing, wailing and even singing to making a mess and knocking over light furniture to cause a racket, was still on that list.

Fortunately for the other residents of the Shack, Bill’s nightly riot took its toll on himself as well. During the day, Ford kept him in the house surrounded by the family’s hustle, hoping he’d be so exhausted by the evening that he would simply crash the first quiet moment and sleep throughout the following night.

It was a good plan – in theory. And Bill was the embodiment of unexpected variables.

The sugar-packed coffee in Dipper’s mug hadn’t been consumed by the invisible wizard after dinner as Mabel suggested. Perhaps Ford should’ve been able to read something from Bill’s maniacally widened eye and a somewhat disgusted expression, the kind you’d expect from an infant who’s taken a bite out of a lemon; but it wasn’t until he rushed downstairs after midnight only to find Bill in the living room unravelling Mabel’s balls of yarn all over Abuelita while talking frantically backwards to himself that he discovered that the triangle demon was, indeed, badly caffeinated.

Abuelita squinted at Ford’s silhouette in the dark room. “Soos, is this my grandchild? He has a very funny shape. And he flies.”

Ford wasn’t very enthusiastic on introducing Bill to the grandmother of the house ( _how come is she not in bed at this hour? Does she ever move from her chair?_ ) in the middle of the night, so he just hastily collected the yarn from Abuelita’s lap with a torrent of apologies and dragged Bill out of the room by his wrist. The demon was shaking; he could practically feel the caffeine rushing in his captive’s likely nonexistent veins.

He had to hold Bill down for fifteen minutes to get a single sensible word out of him.

“Ah-ha!” Bill whooped as soon as the flow of backward words had somewhat ceased. His voice still sounded strange. “You’re restricting me. I’m not able to wander freely around the house. You know what that means, right?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd, this was just a –”

_“Deal’s off.”_

“Don’t even think about screaming”, Ford warned, and received a lousily attempted look of innocence in response.

“…well, if you’re ready to consider making another –“

“Absolutely not.” The man turned to face the triangle with an almost dangerous shade in his eyes. “I will not make another deal with you for as long as I live, and I ask you to not suggest that ever again.”

He heard a small whimper. Bill had stopped shaking, and his eye was fixed on the six fingers around his wrist. Ford could almost swear he could distinguish a hint of fear in the demon’s expression.

He hadn’t realized his grip on him had tightened so much.

Bill drew away from him the instant he loosened his hold. “H… hah! Ask whatever you want, old pal”, he said, his voice still strained and odd like he was holding back a burst of laughter. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been making deals with me ever since you brought me back. Every word you exchange with me contains an agreement. That’s language, buddy!”

“I see”, Ford answered coldly. “Then I suppose I will have to stop talking to you altogether.”

“Good! Best thing I’ve heard the whole summer”, Bill snarked right back at him. “I prefer doing business with adults instead of childish saltcrackers like yourself, anyway.” He threw a meaningful glance towards the ceiling. “Oh, Momma Toots, you have a _world_ of success ahead of ya!”

Ford gritted his teeth. No matter what he said, Bill would always turn it to his own benefit. Perhaps the demon was right in what he said about language.

But two could play that game.

“No”, he said. “You will not harass my family any longer. You are my responsibility, and you will answer to me and only me. If you’re hoping I would fall for your ridiculous wordplay, you will be severely disappointed.”

Bill let out a small shriek as his wrist was seized again. “Hey! Hands off! I told you the deal’s moot! I’ll scream if you so much as –“

“Then _scream_ ”, Ford growled in a low tone. “See how far that will take you. But know this: I will _not_ bend down to your threats.”

Bill drew a deep breath and screamed.

 

* * *

 

At least the morning was quiet.

Too quiet, Ford would’ve thought if he’d had enough energy to think in the first place. The only sound in the kitchen was Soos pouring Bill’s tea in his morning cereals; even Bill was jaded enough to protest or even notice the misuse.

Later in the afternoon, Ford was confronted by his brother.

“So listen, Poindexter, I’m taking the kids to the guesthouse for tonight”, Stan told him, not bothering to subdue the hint of blame audible in his voice. “They need sleep. I talked to Soos and Melody as well, but that woman seems stuck with some ridiculous idea of ‘ _socializing_ ’ that psycho. Could be ‘cause of the bun in her oven, but she seems to be slowly turning into as much of a whackjob as you are.” He shook his head. “I have a bad feeling about this, Ford. You better put that son of a bitch in check before it’s too late.”

 

* * *

 

The following night was no better.

“Bill, what the –“

“HAHAHA, BLESS THIS MESS! THIS IS WHAT A KITCHEN SHOULD LOOK LIKE!”

 

* * *

 

After two more nights had gone by, Ford finally ran out of patience.

As Melody had pointed out, the bunker was rather chilly at nighttime; the old heater had had to be removed from use prior to Bill’s resurrection, and there was no other source of heat, but Ford had seen much worse in his outlaw days.

Bill, however, was shivering from the cold, and visibly on pins and needles for a variety of reasons Ford wasn’t too enthusiastic on receiving a full list of.

When he offered the demon a small blanket for the night, he was hatefully refused.

He let out a sigh of frustration. His head had been hurting from the lack of sleep for several days now. “Just what do you want from me, Bill?”

Bill gave him a bloodshot glare. “I want you _out of my sight_.”

After a long silence, Ford stood up and turned towards the staircase leading out of the bunker. “Very well.”

 

* * *

 

When he returned to the bunker next morning, he found Bill staring blankly ahead, oddly shaky and unresponsive. Admittedly, there was one good side to it: he didn’t utter a single word to Ford for the entire day.

He wasn’t the only one. Melody was just as silent, but the grave disappointment in her eyes as she shook her head at him spoke for itself.

 

* * *

 

Late in the following night, he awakened to the sound of knocking on his door. “Mr. Ford?”

Ford frowned while searching for his glasses in the dark. The night had been the most peaceful one yet, and Bill had remained so silent it was almost alarming. “Yes, what is it, Soos?” he called, his voice still hoarse.

“Mr. Ford, I… well… It’s about the triangle dude. He’s in the gift shop. Won’t talk. Won’t move. Just keeps banging his head or… upper corner or whatever on the front door. Over and over again, like thump, thump, thump and so on.”

“Oh… I see.”

There was a pause as though Soos was expecting him to continue. Then the door opened, and a round, worried face peeked in. “This isn’t right, dog. Mr. Bill needs to rest. He needs sleep. Just go get him and… dude, I don’t know, tuck him under a blanket and read him a bedtime story or something.”

Ford raised an eyebrow at this absurd suggestion, but remained quiet at the sight of genuine concern in Soos’ eyes.

“Please.”

He sighed. “All right. I will go.”

He found Bill in the gift show in a state exactly like what Soos had described. His eye glazed and movements sluggish, he looked like the very definition of worn out. There was no resistance when Ford knelt down and cautiously picked him up in his arms; he seemed barely responsive.

It didn’t lessen his surprise in the least when Bill’s hands clutched weakly onto the front of his shirt. For a brief moment, he reminded the old researcher of a baby animal.

In the back of his mind, Ford could hear the screeching laughter and the flames howling over Gravity Falls as he carried the fatigued triangle demon through the quiet staircase to his room. By the time he lay back down on his bed, Bill had already drifted off to a deep sleep.

The same kind of exhaustion took over him with a crash. It had been an unbearably long week, and he’d hardly gotten more rest than his rebellious prisoner. Bill was falling into a state of boredom, he would need intellectual stimuli to stay alert, and Ford had some plans for that – but it could wait until tomorrow. For now…

They both needed to rest.

 

* * *

 

“A road trip, you say? Ballots out for Mabel inclusion!”

“Bill’s coming too, you know.”

Ford had never seen the girl’s seemingly endless enthusiasm die out and turn into a sullen frown as quickly as it did after Dipper’s remark. “Never mind”, she snarled. “Mabel has left the building.” But there was a distinct note of disappointment in her tone.

Ford leaned forward to pat her arm. “I understand your sentiment, but it saddens me to leave you behind. It will be a rather dull road trip without, hm, Mabel inclusion.”

“You’re right about that”, Mabel confirmed dolefully. “With nothing to balance out the amount of nerd talk in the car… It sounds so dull it might be even dangerous.”

“You make a rather concerning point”, Ford nodded. “Perhaps the condensation of nerdiness will be too much for the laws of physics to bear, and it might end up tearing a hole in the fabric of space and time. Having you with us would likely prevent this catastrophic scenario.”

Mabel’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really? You mean science needs Mabel inclusion?”

“Absolutely”, Ford said in a firm, serious tone while fighting a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth. “We need Mabel inclusion not only for entertainment, but for securing the interdimensional energy balance and the very existence of the Multiverse.”

Out of an old habit, Dipper moved a little to the side on his chair, successfully dodging his twin sister’s elbow as she sprang up just a second later to strike a victorious pose towards the ceiling.

“Aw, yes!” she whooped. “Mabel inclusion! For science!”

Compared to the extremely cross look Bill had been sporting throughout the entire conversation, the glance he gave at the teacup Soos was holding as he walked into the kitchen filled with laughter was almost relieved.

“There you go, Mr. Bill, sir”, he said in his usual helpful tone as he placed the cup on the small table, receiving a rare nod of approval for an answer. “Nice to see you looking a bit less flat today. Hehe, flat. Hey, what’s gotten into Hambone?”

“We’re going on a Mabel-inclusive road trip”, Dipper explained. “Great uncle Ford has been tracking an anomaly with strange behavioral patterns that’s currently located near the Nevadan border, and we’re going to investigate it up close.”

“We might have to capture it for further inspection”, added Ford. “Cracking the code behind its mysterious change in behavior could be a pivotal breakthrough in my current research. I hope it’s all right for you and Melody if I keep it in my basement laboratory should it come to that.”

Soos nodded. “Sure, no problem!” Then he leaned a bit closer and said in a slightly lower tone that was probably meant to be quieter as well: “As long as it’s not another triangle dude. Mr. Bill is cool, well, most times, but I don’t know if we can handle double the trouble. No offense.”

Ford laughed. “None taken for my part. Although he probably heard you as well. Have no fear, Soos, there is only one Bill Cipher –“

“Don’t be so sure about that, Sixfingers”, Bill put in. “There’s more of where th–“

“– and rest assured that even if that wasn’t the case, I would not tolerate a single one of his replicas within a ten-mile radius from the Shack”, Ford continued over him, raising his voice slightly. “One infantile triangle demon is more than enough for this household, and the entire Multiverse for that matter.”

There was a strange sound as the triangle demon’s peculiar mouth turned back into his eye just to glare daggers at his adversary; too bad it happened mid-sip, causing Bill to almost choke on his tea.

Ignoring the bizarre sounds of lungless coughing, Ford moved back to the earlier topic. “In any case, we’re going to need a driver.” Due to Stan’s decades-lasting identity fraud, Ford was left without an officially recognized citizenship and was thus unable to regain his driving license. Neither of the younger twins had gotten theirs yet, and even if Stan hadn’t unofficially retired from driving, Ford doubted he’d be willing to stay in a closed space with Bill for longer than fifteen minutes. “Soos, I don’t suppose you…?”

“Sorry, Mr. Ford, can’t help with you there”, Soos answered apologetically. “Gotta stay home for Melody. The baby’s not due for another couple of weeks, but you never know.”

Ford nodded. “I understand. I suppose we could ask around town. But it has to be someone we could trust with the knowledge of Bill’s return. And dealing with anomalies always has its risks, so I’d rather them be someone who won’t lose their cool too easily.”

Dipper glanced at his old cap resting beside him on the dining table. “In fact”, he said with a smile, “I know just the right person for the job.”

 

* * *

 

“Dude. This is the stuff. I have literally been _dreaming_ of this day. Seriously, like eighty percent of my dreams smell exactly like this old-timey leather.” Wendy turned to Dipper, who was adjusting his seatbelt in the back seat behind her. “You sure Mr. Pines is okay with this? He swore to never let me anywhere near his ride since, well...” She pointed at the old scribblings by her teenage friends above Dipper’s head. “…that.”

Dipper gave her a smirk. “Eh, we’ll go by his own policy this time. ‘ _When there’s no cops around’_ …”

“… _’anything’s legal’_ ”, Wendy filled in and jingled the car keys in her hand. “Welp, can’t argue with an ex-boss, can I?”

“Nope”, Dipper laughed along. He’d missed Wendy, as well as the rare streak of coolness within himself that hanging out with her brought to the surface. To his relief, the awkward crush phase had passed after his first summer in Gravity Falls, and over the years the laidback redhead had wound up becoming his best friend right after his twin. In Dipper’s eyes, the changes she’d met in the threshold of adulthood had only made her cooler: in the recent years she’d decided to follow her father’s footsteps as a lumberjack, and there was no doubt the lifestyle suited her.

Wendy cranked down the car window and whistled at Ford, who was busy fitting a large foldable cage in the trunk. “Everything good, Doc? We need to roll before Mr. P catches on who’s steering.”

“Yes… Just a second.” After a final adjustment, he straightened up and slammed the trunk shut. “All right, I think we’re all set.” He was quite happy with Dipper’s suggestion for the driver; he’d always found the Corduroy girl trustworthy and likable, the fact that she was the only one who seemed to remember his scholarly honorifics not being the least of his reasons.

Wendy gave him a thumbs up. “Great! Jump in and we’ll hit the road. Everyone on board? Mabel, Dipper, Doc, the pointy bastard that, let me repeat myself, _I won’t hesitate to punch the living hell out of at the first wrong move you make?_ I’m watching you, you hear me?”

This was the fourth time she’d reminded him of her vigilance.

“Loud and clear, Red”, Bill muttered, squirming in his seatbelt like a cranky child. He would’ve preferred traveling in the trunk, but since the cage took all the space, he was forced to sit in the backseat between Ford and Dipper.

His expression turned even more vexed as Ford slid next to him and closed the car door.

“We’re all set”, the researcher confirmed.

Wendy glanced at the rear window and started the engine with haste. “Nice to hear, because I think Mr. P just spotted me and I’m about to hit the pedal on this beast.”

For a brief moment, the passengers could catch a glimpse of Stan leaping across the yard screaming _“CORDUROY!”_ before the old car gunned out of the driveway on full throttle.

 

* * *

 

Mabel inclusion was soon proved an excellent idea for the trip: from traveling songs to a variety of road trip games to an attempted makeover on the driver (“that short haircut looks _amazing_ on you, would be a perfect match with these earrings, and _ooh_ , wait, I have just the right shade to bring out those eyes!”) to knitting sweaters with road pun embroideries at an inhuman speed for every passenger – except Bill – Mabel whole-heartedly provided endless entertainment for the entire crew.

Well, except Bill.

The triangle demon was, once again, acting strange. Their trip had barely started when he’d suddenly shrieked out loud, making everyone else jump on their seats, and pointed his finger at Ford with a widened eye that had soon turned into an ominous smirk. Immediately after this oddity, he’d fallen into a complete and unnervingly docile silence, which would only be interrupted every half an hour by an unannounced motion towards Ford.

Every single one of his surprise attacks was, of course, halted by the Blood Chains. Sometimes his movements would be quick, other times slower, sometimes straightforward or vague and edging, but the result was always the same; and yet Bill seemed unfazed by his constant failure. The sense of quiet determination in his actions was deeply unsettling to Ford.

“Bill, cut that out”, he’d grunted more than once, but had received no response whatsoever other than being smugly disregarded.

He had no other choice but to disregard him right back.

During a late lunch break at a gas station, Ford confirmed the location of their target on his anomaly radar while Bill was locked inside the car; he couldn’t risk letting him glimpse at the sea of alarming red signals all across the map and catch on the superanomalous global threat. The anomaly they were looking for seemed to have settled down on a defined spot on the map, and had stayed unmoving for several days now. For an aviant hybrid type – they were rather common around Gravity Falls – that usually stayed on the move at all times, its behavior was extremely peculiar.

“An anomaly manifesting behavior anomalous to what makes it an anomaly”, he explained as they walked back to the car, “could be nothing less than –“

“An anomanomaly!”

Ford laughed. “Yes, Mabel. Although I do prefer the term superanomaly. Science has enough tongue twisters as it is.”

“Are you kidding me? There can never be _enough_ tongue twisters!” Mabel grinned, hopping on the front seat. “Dipdop, Wendy, after me! An anomanomaly!”

“Uh, anomaloma…”

“…nomalymanyma…ly?” Wendy shrugged. “Whatever, man. This is why I skipped college.”

The others’ defeat seemed to fire Mabel up even more. “Oh, come on, you guys! Put some effort into it! Hey, Grunkle Ford, can you say immunochemiluminometric?”

Ford raised his eyebrow. “Impressive! But be careful, you might trigger someone’s hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia!”

“Oh no, don’t get her started”, Dipper put in hastily. “Tongue twisters are literally the only thing she’s been focusing on in English classes. There’s no end to it!”

But Mabel had already accepted the challenge with an expression of boundless glee. “Hydroxypropyltrimonium!” she shouted with stars in her eyes. “Antidisestablishmentarianism! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

“Well, what about pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokon-”

“ _˥WHɐVWʇƎƜɐƆɥWSƎZɐƆɥWƂɐZƎWʞɹɐQᴉWZƎᴉHSɐQWVɹᴉƜɥʎHWʇɹᴉƜƜɐᴉƂʞZWHƎZƎᴉWZɐƂWᴉWSᴉɹɐᴉWUɐHɥƎʇɹɐƂɐQWHʇƎɹʎƂWQ!_ ”

The whole car fell quiet after Bill’s incomprehensible stream of sounds that would’ve probably been impossible for human speech organs to produce.

“Uh, guys”, Wendy said at last. “Tone it down a little back there, okay? Makes it a little hard to focus on driving when the shape guy is shrieking his mumbo-jumbo into my ear.”

Bill gave a mocking shrug. “Oh, _I’m sorry_ , I thought this was a verbal free-for-all. You meatsacks need to step it up if you wanna compete with the best is all I’m saying.”

“Bill, this was none of your concern.” Ford scratched his head. “In any case, I’ll have to admit my defeat. You won this round fair and square, Mabel.”

For a good while, Mabel stared ahead through the windscreen without saying a word. “No”, she then said with a sigh. “ _He_ did.” She turned around and looked Bill in the eye with an expression of grave seriousness, holding out her hand.

“Good game.”

Ford’s mouth opened out of a reflex to stop her, but as he saw the resolution in her eyes, he bit his tongue and said nothing. He had to trust her.

Bill stared at Mabel’s hand suspiciously for a moment before reaching to grab it with his own, the gesture accompanied with a gracious tip of his hat. “Likewise. For a flesh sapling, that is.”

“Don’t try anything, though”, the teenager warned. “We’re _not_ cool, just so you know.”

“Yeah, man”, Wendy joined in, throwing road safety out of the window for a moment and turned around to make a threatening gesture between her eyes and Bill’s single one. “ _Watching you_.”

Watching the brief handshake left a heavy lump in Ford’s throat. Bill hadn’t initiated it, there was no deal, no verbal agreement, no reason for him to interfere… But it was almost unbearable to witness either way. He didn’t want the kids interacting with Bill. He didn’t want them _touching_ Bill. It was as though a single look in the demon’s eye would expose them to his twisted influence.

However, Mabel seemed to be quite all right as she turned back to face the road ahead. “Okidoki, who’s ready for a game of Wheels? Seventh time’s the charm!”

 

* * *

 

Capturing the anomaly proved itself a far easier task than what Ford had expected.

Once they reached the spot the radar coordinates had guided them to, they didn’t have to look far and wide to find the anomaly: its bizarre, feathery figure, resembling a giant crow sporting a long neck and webbed feet, caught their eye right away.

“Is that it?” Dipper asked with a frown as they warily approached the unmoving creature. Bill had been left in the car to avoid his unpredictable antics chasing their target away. “Looks pretty run-of-the-mill to me. But why is it so…”

“Inanimate? Well, that’s what we are here to find out”, Ford said quietly. “As you can see, it’s an avian hybrid – without further genetic confirmation, judging merely by its visual appearance, I’d assume it’s a combination of a Corvus Corax and and an unspecified species in the Anatidae Cygnus family… meaning a common raven and a swan. I suggest we simply call it a Swaven.”

“Good”, Mabel said, nodding in approval. This time she seemed to be satisfied with a name that wasn’t nearly impossible to pronounce. “Good.”

The promptly named creature seemed to hardly notice their presence; in fact, without the spastic movements of its three eyes and the faint signs of breathing that made its pitch-black feathers gleam in the setting sun, it could’ve passed for a very lifelike statue. The distorted, unnatural position it was frozen in made it look like one of Stan’s taxidermist experiments gone horribly wrong.

“It looks so silky! Can I touch it?” Mabel squealed under her breath, but Ford stopped her hand reaching for the creature.

“Wait”, he said, “we cannot let our guard down just yet. It might appear docile, but anomalies are unpredictable by definition, all the more so if I’m right in assuming this specimen has fallen victim to the influence of crossdimensional weirdness. Stay here while I restrain its movements, just to make sure.”

Holding a rope in his hands covered with thick leather gloves, Ford stepped right next to the Swaven and, after a couple of failed attempts – his extra fingers made the unmodified gloves fairly clumsy to use –  managed to secure the creature’s beak and legs with a sturdy knot. He received no other response than a rapid series of blinks.

“All right”, he sighed and turned to face the youth. “It should be safe now, even if it did act up without a warning.”

“Can I touch it now?”

“Well, yes, I suppose you can, as long as it’s not visibly disturbed by it.”

The girl didn’t need to be given a permission twice. “All aboard for monster cuddles!”

After a good ten minutes of _monster cuddles_ , which the Swaven didn’t protest at the very least, Ford decided it was time to cage the creature and look for the nearest place to stay for the night. The unfolded cage proved itself a snug fit for the apathetic anomaly; then again, it didn’t seem be exactly demanding with its moving space.

However, they could no longer fit the cage in the trunk, and they had no choice but to give the middle seat to the creature and have Ford share his with Bill – much to the latter’s endless dismay.

“Oh, this is just ridiculous! Harassment! Oppression! Deprivation of privacy!” he snarled loudly as Ford, rather unenthusiastic himself, was tugging him down on his lap by the crimson chains. When the man tried to grasp his sides, he all but exploded. “Oh no, don’t even think about it, Sixfingers! This is _my_ personal space, no freak hands allowed! _Don’t you dare touch me_!”

“There will be no need for that if you stop struggling”, Ford answered with a frown.

Bill turned to give him a furious glare. “Ha! Wanna shake on that?”

“No, I do not. I already told you to never attempt making a deal with me again.”

“Well, I never agreed. Although I _might_ reconsider if we shook –“

“ _No_.”

 

* * *

 

To everyone’s relief, it wasn’t a long way to the nearest motel. They paid for two rooms, one for the youngsters and one for Ford and his supernatural protégés – the receptionist seemed more than a little crusty at the sight of the large blanket-covered cage Ford and Wendy were carrying, but after Mabel grabbed her hand told her with trustful eyes that she was going to meet a tall, dark stranger, she was suddenly willing to let it slip by.

Mabel inclusion had, indeed, been a great idea.

After enjoying a takeout dinner in the other room, the driver announced with a huge yawn that she needed her statutory amount of rest. Dipper and Mabel were similarly beat, so Ford took Bill by the wrist, wished the kids a good night and moved over to his room on the other side of the corridor.

After a quick peek under the blanket confirming that the Swaven was still in its quiescent state, Ford straightened up with a weary sigh and started getting ready for bed. His arms felt oddly heavy as he pulled his sweater over his head. Capturing the anomaly had gone without trouble, the trip was undoubtedly a success, and yet… all he could find in his mind was quietly smoldering frustration. And he had more than a vague idea of what – or whom – was the cause of it.

With a huff, he turned to face the triangle demon, who was floating above the foot of his bed and staring at him intently. He felt a wave of self-conscious discomfort wash over him as he saw Bill’s eye exploring the marks of the past left on his upper body.

“Bill”, he said with a vague note of irritation in his tone.

As usual, he was ignored. “Well, wouldya look at that. After all these years, all that bragging of _change_ and _learning from your mistakes_ and whatnot…” Bill’s eye trailed slowly down the patterns inked on his bare arms, eventually stopping on his hands. He gave Ford a glance that was something between meaningful and amused. “Ever crossed your mind to remove those things? Would be a cinch. I could do it, if you just asked.”

“I’m not –“

“But no, _obviously_ you want to keep them that way. I mean, yeah, I can see there are some benefits, but… surely a smartso like you can count to twelve even without those, right?”

 _He wasn’t talking about the tattoos._ The sheer malice in the demon’s words almost made Ford shudder.

“How dare you”, he growled and took a firm step towards his adversary, who – surprisingly – instead of drawing away, floated even closer.

“Aw, come on, Fordsy, we both know what’s the name of the game here”, Bill said in an almost soft tone. Ford flinched as the black fingers reached to trace the tattoos on his upper arm, and the chains – once again, the Blood Chains were nowhere to be seen. “You’re weak and you love it. You latch onto every little thing that reminds you of your downfalls. Any other fella with even the teeniest bit of self-integrity would’ve freed himself of those takerbackers long ago, but not you, oh no, not Stanford Pines! You even went as far as resurrecting your worst enemy! There’s a word for this kind of a fixation, you know.”

“Stop it”, Ford muttered. He felt a strange, cold shiver in the back of his neck as Bill’s hands slid down his arm, the single eye half-lidded in keen exploration of the triangular patterns on his scarred skin. “I’m… telling you to stop. _Stop_.”

_The chains… Why wouldn’t they materialize?_

He could’ve sworn he saw a smile flashing across the golden surface as Bill raised his gaze at him, now looking blatantly victorious. “See that? _See that?_ Hah, I knew it! You can’t control me. All it takes is a bit of ego stroking, button pushing or just some good old harsh truths about your weakling misery, and you lose all control! Just like old times, Fordsy! You never change – unless _I_ change you! Well, guess today’s your lucky day! Now watch closely as I BEGIN YOUR SLOW AND PAINFUL ANNIHILATION BY FREEING YOU FROM YOUR LIFELONG CURSE, ONE EXTRA DIGIT AT A – _W-WHAT_?”

His infuriated stare was fixed at the glowing chains that had stopped his hands flying towards Ford’s in clearly violent intentions.

“Wh, why did – you little…!”

“Are you finished?” Ford asked in a dark tone. “I’d rather go to sleep than continue this ridiculous farce of yours.”

Once again, Bill was shaking with rage. “Am I finished, you ask? You wish, you arrogant piece of scum! You think you’re special just because you have an extra pair of fingers? Don’t make me laugh. You’re just about the most normal, uninteresting, humanest human I’ve ever encountered. The only thing that’s even distantly special about you is how thick-headed you are – with or without that ridiculous metal plate! Guess thirty years of suffering and isolation, both for yourself and your incredibly dumb sibling, is nothing you can’t just shrug off so that you get to play the role of a tragic hero again!”

Ford heaved a sigh. He felt strangely empty. This would never end, would it? Is this what he had doomed himself with for the remaining 26 years of his life?

“Of course you would see it that way”, he said in a somewhat weary tone. “You’re simply projecting your own narcissistic delusions of grandeur on the actions of others. But as I have told you several times by now, there are certain things you will never understand despite your all-knowing origins. Your restrainment isn’t about me. It’s about you. My role is merely to watch over your retribution.”

Bill made a show of snorting as loudly as possible. “Oh, cut that fake stoic martyr bullshit! I know what you humans are like! It’s always just you, you, you! Everything’s all fine and dandy as long as it benefits your own dear self! As if your lackcluster species was ever even capable of giving a damn about the consequences of your idiocy in the grand scheme of things!”

“Bill, you’ll get nowhere with this. Leave it be.”

“Just look at yourself!” Bill continued screaming as if he hadn’t even heard the man’s words. “Look at the situation you’ve managed to put yourself and everyone around you into! Look how much trouble and hardships you’re putting your family through! And you still have the nerve to think you’re carrying out some galactic justice mission? Talk about delusions of grandeur! No, buddy, the only reason you brought me back is because you couldn’t live your sad little life without me! Just admit it, you _missed_ me! _You longed for me, Stanford Pines!”_

…

“What… did you say to me?”

Perhaps it was the past week’s exhaustion finally catching up to him; but all of a sudden, Ford felt as though every cell of his body had tensed up. His hand made a sudden, violent movement towards the creature staring at him with a gleam in his eye.

The same monster who had tormented him ceaselessly, nights and days on end, for over thirty years.

“I said”, said the monster slowly, “you _longed_ for me.”

“You don’t even know what that means”, Ford hissed, his voice barely audible. “You cannot possibly understand what it means.”

“That’s right, I don’t”, Bill jerked out. His stare was so intense it was becoming a bit glazed. “Because I’m not weak like you.”

“ _I am not weak_.”

“See, pal, you’re just proving my point. Look at you trembling with the urge to shut me up by force. Your mind is probably just screaming at you to hurt me, am I right? Maybe break a limb or two? You’d like that, right? Oh, I bet you’d just _love_ that.”

Ford’s mind was buzzing with noise as Bill floated closer, settling his hands on his face and filling his entire field of vision.

“Then _do it_ ”, the demon breathed. “You’re dying to put your hands on me, aren’t you? _Do it_.”

He sounded almost desperate.

“No.”

He felt small claws dig into his skin. “Don’t be such a sissy, Stanford. I said… do it.”

“You explicitly told me to keep my hands off you mere hours ago.”

“We didn’t _shake on it_ , you dense idiot.”

“Nevertheless”, Ford muttered, suddenly very aware of how dry his lips felt. “I will respect your wish, regardless of whether or not there is personal gain for myself. That is yet another difference between you and me.”

“Hah… You…” At some point, Bill’s breathing had gotten a lot heavier. “I’ve just about had enough of your sick little games, Pines…”

He dropped down and grabbed a hold of the man’s hand. Gripped it so tightly it was painful. Dragged it up, pushed it forcibly against himself. Let the pads of six fingers slide across his glowing surface. Closed his eye and let out a stifled, trembling breath, almost like a sob of relief.

“See?” he whispered. “You… don’t control me, you sad… little man…”

The Blood Chains showed no sign of appearing, but Ford no longer cared. He didn’t give a damn about Bill’s fingers digging into his palm with force that shouldn’t have been possible. He couldn’t care less if Bill was the one guiding his hand’s movements… because by now, regardless of who was in control, it was exactly what he wanted.

There were lips against his, and he found himself answering eagerly.

This was, without a doubt, a kiss. It was something he’d never experienced before. Soft, smooth surfaces tangled with one another, moving in erratic and senseless patterns; he didn’t know who was in control, who was leading, who was devouring whom, and he just couldn’t bring himself to _care._

Ford almost smiled, but it would’ve taken too much focus away from what he was doing. What they were doing.

He’d never quite understood the impulses that drove people into these kinds of actions, but now… He didn’t know what exactly it was that he wanted, but god, did he want it, did he _yearn_ for it.

It was tentative and daring. Curious… Needy?

 _So this is what it feels like_. It was something that he could, somewhere in the back of his mind, identify as raw, self-absorbed lust. He wanted everything, everything he felt, every single gasp and shiver that racked the heated triangular body pushing against him. He wanted every muffled sound of impatience and desperation, almost impossible to recognize as the same voice he loathed with every fiber of his existence.

The voice he was never supposed to hear again.

“You… you shouldn’t… be here”, he breathed through the intoxicating haze. “…You should be gone… You should be _dead_ …”

“S… shut up…”

He wanted this… so much. He wanted him. _He wanted Bill_.

His knees gave out under him and he stumbled backwards, dragging Bill down with him. He hardly noticed the pain when his head hit against the foot of the bed – all he was aware of was the hot tongue pushing in his mouth, and how his own trailed its side into the metallic cavity that was so very organic at the same time, inhuman, human, he was no longer able to tell the difference.

His vision was spattered with black from the lack of air. He didn’t care if he suffocated, he…

He forced himself to break off the kiss. Just for a second… Only for a second.

Even when he was gasping for breath, he could barely keep his lips from seeking the flesh that wasn’t actually flesh, and all he could bring himself to recall was the taste of metal and desperation and _longing_.

 _Perhaps what Bill said is true_ , Ford thought hazily as he ran his fingertips up and down the demon’s sides in a feverish manner. _Perhaps I was always this selfish_.

He felt oddly light and elated. At least he could no longer deny it.

Somewhere between the endless cycle of pulling back and leaning in again changing from almost violent need to cautious, featherweight contact between their lips, Bill had opened his eye slightly; his hands that had been occupied with all but violently gripping every fistful of grey hair they could reach were now feverishly clawing at his bowtie. As if by their own accord, Ford’s fingers wandered to help him unfasten the strip of glossy black fabric from the golden surface.

He had _no idea_ what he was doing.

His breath hitched at the sensation of the silk coming undone and slipping through his fingers on the floor. He didn’t know what was happening, he _didn’t know_ what was happening, but his entire body was throbbing with anticipation as Bill pulled him into another kiss – expect there was only a half of a kiss before everything became scrambled again, and he found his own mouth traveling past Bill’s lower lip, brushing against the revealed surface – he felt the demon tense and shudder beneath the tip of his tongue, the small hands getting lost in his hair again, and the breathy mewl that followed was enough to turn what little was left of his rationality into a hot mess, and it drove him –

_KRRRTT. THWAP. CRUNCH._

The noise of cracking metal bars was so loud and harrowing that it startled Ford out of his state of thick intoxication with a violent flinch. Bill yelped at his sudden movement and flashed his eye open in a manner that usually preceded a torrent of complaints, but Ford swung him carelessly away; as soon as the demon was gone from his field of vision, his eyes were met with the cause of the sudden alarm.

The anomaly had broken free. It was _enormous_. At least twice the size of its earlier form, its body was now a nightmarish mess of feathers and displaced limbs. The grotesque choking noises didn’t make its transformation any less unsettling.

“Wh… what is this?” Ford stammered vaguely as he scrambled up on his feet, still completely out of breath from what the creature’s sudden frenzy had interrupted. And speaking of frenzy…

Without his outstanding reflexes sharpened by his years as an interdimensional fugitive, he would’ve been done for at the Swaven’s first attack.

This was bad.

The superanomaly – there was no longer any doubt of it being one – was, to say the least, fast. It was quite possible that the superdimensional contamination made its movements exceed the speed of light: its form seemed to disappear briefly when it moved, almost like a flickering hologram. It made no sense. Of course it didn’t. Ford had to do something quick.

_Fight chaos with chaos._

There was no time for intricate plans, so the first thought he could get a grasp on would have to do. He would have to lend Bill some of his old powers. It was risky, but it was better than being mauled by a nightmare abomination.

He felt the chains unravel deep within his mind.

“Bill!” he shouted, backing away from the creature while trying to keep his mind empty from any kind of speculation on its next move. There was no pattern; he’d have to rely purely on his instincts. “Use your powers to restrain its movements! Hurry!”

Bill was sitting on the foot of the bed with his legs crossed, readjusting his bowtie and humming a jazzy tune. He showed no signs of having even heard Ford’s command.

As if he couldn’t care less.

“BILL!” the researcher yelled for the second time, his breath catching in his throat as he just barely dodged another fatal strike of the crazed creature’s beak. He’d released his powers, he was absolutely sure of it, but Bill didn’t… “What are you waiting for? DO SOMETHING!”

At last, Bill glanced at him. His eye crinkled with amusement as he took a more comfortable position on his seat.

Unbelievable. Was he planning to just sit back and watch him die?

But now the anomaly seemed to have shifted its focus on the demon, and the smug look on the triangular face was gone with a flash. He sprang up from the bed and shot towards the ceiling, and Ford’s heart jumped in his throat with rage. _Oh, no, you won’t_. His mind ordered the demon to _stop_ , and there was the familiar chime of the Blood Chains as they halted Bill with a yank – Ford ducked behind his immobilized captive as the Swaven lunged forward, a horrible scream pierced the air –

“ _BI_ —“

The door crashed open, and the next thing he was looking at was the sight of Wendy Corduroy in plaid pajamas slamming the gigantic anomaly against the floor with a full-fledged German suplex.

“BOOYAH! You go, lumbergirl!” Mabel whistled right behind her.

“Whoa”, Dipper muttered, his eyes wide. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Man. _Man_. Okay. Okay. _Man_.”

Wendy straightened up with a huff and turned to poke the anomaly with her foot to make sure it was unconscious. Stretching her shoulders, she turned to Ford with an unconcerned expression as if wrestling massive beasts in the middle of the night was a part of her daily routine. (Giving her father had trained her for her day job, it wasn’t actually that far-fetched of an assumption.)

“Yea-h, thought something like this might go down with all of you guys around”, she said. “Three Pines, triple the action. Everything good, Doc?”

Ford realized his mouth had been hanging open for a good while now. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, I’m fine. I… cannot thank you enough, Wendy. You saved my life.” He turned to look at Bill, who was wailing miserably on the floor where the chains had ruthlessly dropped him as they’d disappeared. “His, as well.”

Wendy winced. “Ugh. Could’ve skipped that last part, to be honest. Looks like the monster had the right idea about what to do with the bastard.”

It wasn’t until then that Ford realized the anomaly’s last attack had left Bill injured: his left corner seemed oddly crooked, some of his bricks around it were displaced and fractured, and… wait, was he bleeding? He could certainly see some kind of dark substance trickling from between Bill’s fingers that were pressed against the wound.

Ford took a step towards the triangle, who was shuddering with pain. “Bill, you’re hurt. Let me –“

“ _You did this_.”

An awkward silence fell into the room as everyone’s eyes were instantly turned to Ford at Bill’s wrathful accusation.

Ford let out a deep sigh. “He’s right. I did.” He turned to face Mabel at the sound of the girl’s frightened gasp and raised his hands calmingly. “Well, technically it was the anomaly who attacked him. However, I used him as a shield and left him in harm’s way. I panicked. It was a thoughtless act of desperation, and I must apologize.”

The room’s slightly darkened mood cleared up instantly. “Oh, but that’s totally cool”, Wendy mused. “The least this guy deserves, if you ask me. Good going, Doc, you’re a better person than I am. Oh, and by the way”, she suddenly added with a smile, “rad ink, man.”

Ford was hit by an uncomfortable pang of awareness in regard to his bare upper body.

“Omigosh!” Mabel squeaked. “Grunkle Ford, I never knew you had tattoos! That’s what you were hiding, I thought you were just a sweaterbug like me! Oh, lemme see, lemme see! I should’ve guessed this of our action grunkle, wow, they’re just so _you_ – wait, no, actually they’re also kind of…" she tilted her head, "...Bill?”

“All right, without, uh, further ado, I think you should all go back to sleep”, Ford said hastily, reaching for the sweater sprawled on his bed for an emergency cover. “Especially you, Wendy, we have a long ride ahead tomorrow. You too, Dipper and Mabel.”

“But –“

“Do not worry, I will take care of the anomaly. Even if it was to regain consciousness, a stabilizer injection will keep it docile, I’m sure. We’ll go over the details tomorrow, Dipper”, he added swiftly as Dipper’s eyes lit with curiosity. As much as he would’ve liked to introduce his nephew to the superdimensional properties of the medical component he’d invented as an emergency measure, he had to abstain from it while Bill was within earshot.

After receiving a nod for an answer, he effectively shooed the youngsters out of the door. “Well, see you in the morning”, he said with a rather forced smile. “Good night.”

As soon as he was left alone with Bill again, he leaned his forehead against the door and breathed deeply in and out for a full five minutes.

When he turned to face Bill, he was met with an angry stare. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” Ford asked despite himself.

“ _Anything at all_ ”, Bill hissed back.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

 

* * *

 

When the motel’s receptionist caught sight of Ford leaving his room carrying an utterly demolished cage, a giant deformed bird wrapped up in a blanket followed by a snarky floating triangle whose left corner was covered in bandages, she simply turned away, gazed into the distance and made up her mind to finally take that flight back to Brazil.

Bill was in a bad mood. Ford had decided to not let him regenerate just yet, and had settled for numbing the pain around the wound. The open injury provided too perfect of an opportunity to study the constitution of Bill’s corporeal form – besides, after the previous night’s act of mocking disobedience, the researcher felt there was some truth to Wendy’s words. Using kindness as a method of communication as Melody had suggested was one thing, but there were times the demon simply didn’t deserve any extra sympathy.

Patched up and anesthetized, the wound didn’t hinder Bill in any way, but that didn’t stop him from acting overstatingly jumpy at the slightest touch and lashing out at Ford as they packed themselves into the car next to the heavily sedated anomaly.

“How – many – times – do I have to remind you to keep your six-fingered hands to yourself?”

 “I thought you said the lack of a handshake rendered your demands meaningless”, Ford pointed out with a frown.

“Oh yeah? What happened to all that noble talk about selfless respect, huh? Not so high and mighty in your moral superiority anymore, are you?”

The man sighed in resignation. “…Fair enough.”

The quarrels combusted and died out in turns, continuing for the rest of the trip as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened between the two. However, even the other passengers noticed that their bickering was missing its usual strain, the unnerving friction that created a volatile atmosphere whenever they were in a room together.

Perhaps something had changed.

Despite Mabel being her delightfully loud self throughout their drive back to the Shack, Ford could sense a strange, pleasant kind of quiet in the air, the kind he hadn’t experienced ever since Bill’s resurrection. At last, he understood what had happened between him and the triangle demon last night as well as the night of the wrist incident, and he didn’t know where it could possibly lead to. He tried not to think too much about it; fear and paranoia hung heavy over any speculation his brilliant mind could fathom on the future. There were too many variables, too many possible outcomes, too much chaos. But for now…

At the very least, he could finally admit to himself where he was standing.

It was already late in the evening as they finally stopped the old engine in the Mystery Shack’s driveway. Stan, who had evidently spent the whole day on the porch waiting for their (or his car’s) return, caught Wendy by the collar before she could make an escape into the woods.

“Damn you, Corduroy! If I was still the owner of this place, I’d hire you again just so I could kick you out!”

“No thanks, I already have a job. Might reconsider for company car privileges, though.”

“Oho, don’t you dare try to sell me out for a car you just stole from me! ...huh. I’m actually a little proud. Good going, kiddo. But that won’t save you from getting your ass whooped!”

“Uh, Mr. P, I’m turning 21 in a few months.”

The others were waved in by Soos, who was standing on the porch with a pile of tools and building materials scattered around him.

“Hey, dogs! Look what I just finished making for the triangle dude. Pretty cool, huh?”

Ford blinked at the sight of a triangular addition to the front door. “Soos, it’s…”

“A flap door! For you, Mr. Bill, custom sized and shaped, hat included and everything!” Soos confirmed, puffing up his chest with a sense of pride. “This way he can move around more freely. He’s got the ankle gizmo, so it should be okay, right?”

“Well, it’s quite an outstanding piece of handiwork”, Ford admitted. “Thank you, Soos. I’ll have to take proper security measures before I can allow him to use it freely, but I am sure it will prove itself rather convenient. Bill will surely appreciate it.”

Soos glanced hopefully at Bill. “So what do you think, dog?”

In the middle of a thorough inspection for new scratches or dents, Stan almost hit his head on the car door as he was startled by the furious shriek echoing across the yard.

“ _A FLAP DOOR_? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU – DUMB – MEATBAGS – _KIDDING ME_?”

 


	10. Arc I | Entry No. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: sexual content ahead. Nothing super explicit, but it's there. :3

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 10._

_I was wrong about everything._

 

* * *

 

 

 

”So… are you sure it’ll be enough to keep it cool?”

“Yes, Dipper, I am quite sure. This is unlike a central nervous system-based sedation – this substance reacts to any superdimensional shifting in the creature’s molecules and immediately brings it to a halt.”

Ford got up from his kneeling position and took a step back from the Swaven’s cage to get a better look at it. “It utilizes the same mechanics I was able to contain the interdimensional rift with, and I even used a similar concoction on myself after every instance of being exposed a particularly unstable environment… such as the Nightmare Realm. Corporeal entities react quite badly to its influence, as we were able to witness back at the motel.”

“Ohh yeah”, muttered Dipper and shivered a bit from the memory. “You know, maybe we should ask Wendy to move in just in case. She would probably demand a mad paycheck for having to babysit a superanomaly, though.”

“She did a brilliant job handling the Swaven, I’ll give you that”, Ford laughed. He glanced at his nephew briefly. “Dipper, do you… not trust that my measures will be enough to contain it? I can assure you this substance is effective. My own spine having remained in the same shape through all these years should be enough proof of that.”

“No, I trust the concoction”, Dipper said quickly. “And it seems like our best shot at this point. No pun intended.”

“You trust the concoction”, Ford repeated. “So… I take it you don’t trust _me_. Not entirely.”

He felt a sting both at the sentiment itself and how accusatory his own words had sounded.

The look on Dipper’s face, however, proved that his guess hadn’t been completely amiss. “I… I trust you, Great uncle Ford”, the teen said, avoiding his gaze. “I do, but… You told me Bill would be in your complete control, and, well… There have been a lot of, uh, unexpected turns of events and… Well, you…”

Ford’s heart sank as he turned his eyes away from the boy. He hadn’t told him, there was no way he knew – Dipper wasn’t even aware of his occasional struggles with materializing the Blood Chains, and he still…?

“I was wrong”, he blurted out so suddenly he could see Dipper give a start. “You’re right, Dipper. I was wrong. I was never in full control of Bill, nor will I ever be. It was arrogant of me to assert that in the first place. And it isn’t just Bill. By deeming himself my own problem entirely, I assumed control of the lives of my whole family. As if I could stop all of you from reacting to his presence altogether. I couldn’t trust you to be able to handle him without myself acting as a filter between him and the world. I was… so very, very wrong.”

He spoke without thinking; it was as though the words were something that had been biding their time for quite some time now.

“It’s all right, Great uncle Ford.”

Ford raised his gaze. _It’s all right._ There was no ‘you weren’t wrong’. No ‘you still have a chance to fix this’. It wasn’t an act of forgiveness, because there was nothing to forgive. He didn’t have to redeem himself in his grand nephew’s eyes.

Was Dipper that different from Stanley? Or was it merely the circumstances that had changed? Had he already proved his worth, or was it… something else?

“I mean… Even though everything didn’t go exactly as planned, things aren’t half bad with Bill at the moment, right?” Dipper continued, Ford’s silence having turned his voice a bit more assuring. “In fact, I think he might be slowly adapting to –“

As if to prove him wrong, at that exact moment a frenzied shriek could be heard echoing from upstairs.

“AAAAHHH! I’VE DONE JUST ABOUT ENOUGH WAITING HERE! _SIXER!_ IF YOU DON’T CRAWL OUT OF THAT NERD CAVE AND GET ON FINISHING WHAT YOU STARTED _RIGHT THIS PRECISE INSTANT_ , I’M GONNA GIVE TOOTS HERE A DETAILED LITTLE NARRATION OF WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO HER FLESHSPAWN IF SHE POPPED IT OUT IN DIMENSION QT-π INSTEAD!”

Dipper shut his mouth and shrugged. “Well, uh… baby steps?” he grinned meekly. “And speaking of bad puns, did he just –“

“No, that is its actual, official name. It is also known as the baby dimension”, Ford explained, his expression having turned rather wary. “Please, don’t ask me why. It sounds endearing, but trust me when I say it is anything but.”

“I –“

“Just trust my word on this”, the researcher repeated firmly. “The three and a half minutes I spent there were the only occasion in my entire lifetime when I truly regretted not having one of Fiddleford’s memory guns at hand.”

It wasn’t often that any member of the Pines family would even jokingly refer to Fiddleford’s invention, and it did the trick.

In the end, however, it didn’t make much difference: as they ascended the stairs from the underground laboratory and entered the kitchen, Dipper’s curiosity was sated without him even having to ask.

“- the same way vegetable oil is made of veggies. Easy squeezy, if you follow my flow!”

“ _Bill!_ ”

Bill turned to face the old man, surprisingly unfazed by the thunder in his voice.

“What?” he asked smugly. “She asked.”

“I did”, Melody admitted. Her eyes were glued to the bottle of vegetable oil Bill had graciously placed on the table to demonstrate whatever he’d been busy explaining. “One of these days, my sense of humor is going end me. Probably my baby, too.”

Dipper felt like he’d gotten the main idea from what little he’d heard. He suddenly found himself sympathizing with his great uncle’s wishes for memory erasure.

Melody patted her stomach absent-mindedly. “Eh. Still funny, though.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

> _Entry No. 10._
> 
> _In the course of unfortunate events following our success with capturing a superanomaly, there was one relatively favorable outcome: after refusing initated co-operation to stop the frenzied creature, Bill was_

 “Well?”

 

 

 

> _caught within the striking range of its destructive beak and was consequently injured. The wound is not particularly deep, but it does reveal a rare glimpse of what’s beneath his golden surface._

“WELL?”

 

 

 

> _I will use this opportunity to examine the composition of his physical form, and record my findings in detail for later study_

“ _WELL?”_

Ford let out a huff of frustration and turned from his journal entry to glare at Bill, who was floating around his head at a dizzying speed. “ _What_?” he snapped.

“What – is – taking – you – so – long?”

Ford frowned at the demon fidgeting above him like a child building up a tantrum. Why was he so agitated again? “I am writing a preface to an entry that will cover whatever new I learn from studying your physical form”, he explained perhaps in a little too patient manner knowing that Bill could clearly see what he was doing. “I am sure you know thorough preparation is the key to any form of research.”

“Pfft, as if I care! I don’t do research! I have all existing knowledge in my hands the second I break free from this – this sick game of yours!”

“Bill, stop being ridiculous”, Ford said for what must’ve been closing in on the twentieth time that summer. “I need to understand its structure in order to prevent accidents such as what happened at the motel from reoccurring. Research like this is required for immediate causes; your supratemporal knowledge will not be of any help in this regard. You wouldn’t want me to leave you in whatever state of discomfort you seem to be in, would you?”

“You wanna know what I want?” Bill growled, his clenched fists shaking. “I want you to stop stalling time scribbling in your stupid diary and just _. Get. On with it!_ ”

Ford sighed. “Fine.” He was sure the anesthetization hadn’t worn off yet; Bill’s frenzy was likely caused by the fact that he was in a position with no leeway for trades or blackmail, forced to simply wait. _And here I thought time was an illusion_ , Ford mused quietly, allowing himself a slant smile as he finished writing the preface without hurry.

If anything, being at the mercy of time would provide a good lesson in mortality for a demon with the attention span of an infant.

“All right, let us get started.” He moved the journal a little to the left, clearing up a space in front of him. “Lay down on the table, please.”

“ _What?_ ” Bill bristled.  “In your dreams, buddy! If you think I’m going to sit around being poked like one of your damn guinea pigs, you’ve got another thing –”

“This is an examination”, Ford cut him off, “not experimentation. I don’t want to coerce you, but I will hold you down with the chains if needed. I won’t be able to patch you up without a basic understanding of your internal structure.” It wasn’t entirely true – Bill’s regenerative powers appeared to work autonomously, and his will or comprehension over it were irrelevant. But he needed an excuse. “Neither of us enjoy this, but it is an absolutely necessary procedure. Let’s just get this out of the way, shall we?”

Every single one of Bill’s physical features capable of expressing emotion was twisted with grudge as he floated slowly down on the table. “You _do_ know I will make the very primal energies of the Multiverse lacerate you in every way imaginable once I’m free, don’t you?” he hissed.

Ford pressed him flat on the table with his index finger. It reminded him of one of their earlier confrontations in this same room.

“Yes”, he said. “I know.”

He grabbed his pen and reached for the open journal on his left.

 

 

 

> _ Surface _ _._
> 
> _Shape and appearance are loyal imitations of his astral form. Consists of firm, brick-like components separated by narrow interstices (depth of which cannot be discerned – possible superdimensional properties?). Has a temperature slightly higher than that of a human body, is known to fluctuate and react to his surroundings. Possibly ectothermic. Material unknown; resembles gold, but clearly lighter than any noble metal known to mankind. The smoothness that appears flawless to the bare eye_

“Hey! What was it you said about this being an _examination_ again, huh? Hands off, nerd!”

“I never said this was strictly a visual examination. Keep still.”

“ _Urrghhhh!_ ”

 

 

 

> _hints at the material having been collected from one of the two-dimensional dimensions. To confirm this, I would need to ask Fiddleford to build a hyposcopic device. Further investigation needed._
> 
> _ The eye. _
> 
> _The texture of the cornea_

“You bring those freak fingers an inch closer to my eye, and I swear to five lesser hells –“

“Quiet. I won’t poke your eye, do not worry.” Not that he wouldn’t deserve it.

 

 

 

> _appears very similar to that of an organic human eye, but the overall functions are much simpler. The pupil has no iris to speak of, it lacks a pupillary light reflex –_

“ENOUGH WITH THE PEN LIGHT, I’M NOT YOUR DAMN CAT!”

_“Quiet.”_

 

 

 

> _and the sclera is missing any visible retinal blood vessels. Overall, it is as if the eye is simply imitating the visual appearance of an organic one, and operates on an entirely different, function-based set of rules that seem to follow no causal pattern whatsoever. For instance, no scientific method can explain the occasional shift from an eye into a mouth. The change takes place in the blink of an eye entirely covered by his eyelids (that somehow end up becoming lips), so there is no way to record this bizarre transformation process._
> 
> _ The mouth. _

_“_ Open your mouth, please.”

“No.”

“Bill –“

“ _No game_ , Sixer.” Bill glared at him, clearly without even the slightest intention to close his eye. “My mouth has nothing to do with fixing the wound. Besides, I think you’ve made yourself quite familiar with it already, haven’t you? Why don’t you work with what you have, freak.”

“…Fine.” Trying his best to ignore the heat spreading on his cheeks, Ford shifted his focus back to the journal.

 

 

 

> _The mouth, when manifested, is the most evident sign of his body having superdimensional properties. It appears to be –_ he gulped _– significantly deeper than_ _what the body’s diametric depth would allow. It does, however, have physical boundaries. I am unable to confirm the existence of a throat – and I doubt it, seeing how he doesn’t have a digestive system to speak of – but judging from the sound heard when he drinks, he is able to swallow. I do wonder where all that tea ends up going._
> 
> _Even though he rarely eats and has no need for sustenance, ~~his mouth can produce saliva~~_

…how would he know that? What if someone reads this?

 

 

 

> _~~There is also a tongue, which is slightly longer and darker than a~~ _

No, no, no. He can’t write this down…

 

 

 

> ~~His teeth look much sharper than they feel~~

No…

 

 

 

> _~~the taste is~~ _

Good lord, NO.

…He’d finish this part later.

 

 

 

> _Further investigation needed._

His entire face was burning.

 

 

 

> _ Limbs. _
> 
> _Thin and matt black by appearance. Elastic, skin-like texture, no additional joints._

“Wh – HEY, CUT THAT OUT!”

 

 

 

> _Arms don’t stretch in this form. Four fingers on each hand, no toes – the feet are more akin to shoes than actual feet. No muscles distinguishable by touch aside from the pads of his palms and fingers, which have a muscle-like firmness to them._

“I said cut that out, I told you to – stop touching –“

 

 

 

> _The limbs are attached to his sides rather seamlessly, and_

“S-stop –“

 

 

 

> _~~his sides appear to be very sensitive~~ _

“SIXER!”

It was only then that Ford noticed how much Bill was squirming under his touch. …He’d better strike that last one out as well.

This was not going as he’d imagined. It’s just research. _Focus._

“I apologize”, he said quickly, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. He cleared his throat. “We’re almost done.”

Bill let out something between a snarl and a whimper.

 

 

 

> _Seeing how his primary method of moving around is floating, I assume the limbs are there mainly for a more humanoid appearance as well as to initiate body language. They might also have a role in maintaining his balance. Following the placement of his limbs, I am inclined to believe the axis point of his body is precisely where he wears his bowtie. This characteristic piece of attire seems to be attached to his surface with a knot, which does not exactly conform to the laws of physics; hence there must be some sort of a magnetic ~~~~_

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Ford blinked. “Well, I’m… trying to figure out how your bowtie stays in place.”

“Do you _always_ start casually undressing your test subjects?” Bill shrieked. “What kind of an examination is this, Dr. Grabby Hands? One more move and I’m calling the police!”

“Wh- _undressing_? That’s absurd, that’s not what I… And k-keep your voice down, would you?”

“Oh, I’ll keep my voice down when you get yourself an encyclopedia and look up the word _privacy_! Jesus Roosevelt Glongorb Christ!”

“I…” Ford’s mouth felt dry. Bill had a point – what the hell _was_ he doing? “All right then, all that’s left… is the wound. Just a moment, and you’ll be free to go.”

His fingers were trembling slightly when he unwrapped the bandage around Bill’s left corner, revealing fractured bricks and a small open wound.

 

 

 

> _ Internal structure. _
> 
> _As I surmised, Bill’s outermost surface is much thinner than what the illusion of a brick edifice insinuates. Beneath its protective solidity, a layer of much softer tissue can be seen. The dark fluid bleeding from the fresh wound is now gone; I have saved some of the residue left in the bandages for later study. Judging from a merely visual impression, the tissue_

Ford leaned in for a closer look until his face was just an inch above the fractured golden surface.

“Uh… Sixer?”

 

 

 

> _appears to be some sort of shifting, inorganic mass. Its movements seem to have_

“S-Six, would you m—“

“Just a moment, Bill.” Ford’s hand reached to hold the demon in place while he tilted his head to get a better look at the strange, swirling substance beneath his bricks.

“St— …!“

 

 

 

> _repeating, distinguishable patterns, almost as though it’s being channelled through some sort of an invisible structure. Perhaps there is_

…

 _I am willingly pushing myself as close to you as I am able to_. His past words flashed through his mind at the sudden déjà vu-esque realization of their physical proximity. A lot had changed over the course of this chaotic summer. As close as he was able to… Since then, there had been more than one occasion when he’d been even closer to Bill than that –

…concentrate.

 

 

 

> _some kind of a non-corporeal skeletal framework keeping this form_

“…ahh, S… Sixer–“

Wait... what?

He raised his gaze to the legs wound possessively around his wrist, and the small black hands keeping his own firmly pressed against Bill’s lower side where it had unconsciously slipped while he was exami-

Well, that’s it for his concentration.

He straightened up. “Bill? What are you -“

Bill startled; the hazy gleam in his eye was gone with a blink. “Wh – wh… What are _YOU doing, you sick piece of_ –“

“Me?” Ford almost shouted. “I didn’t – I’m not – you – I’m, I’m done! The examination’s over! Now let go of my hand! … _Bill!_ ”

But it wasn’t until he jerked his hand violently away that Bill finally snapped out of whatever trance-like state he was in.

Ford’s heart was racing with confusion and rather inexplicable anger. “You’re free to leave”, he barked. “Well, what are you waiting for? _Leave._ ”

It still took Bill several seconds to tear his stare away from the six-fingered hand.

“Now you… Now you’ve really done it, Pines”, he muttered slightly out of breath before slowly floating up and out of the door, leaving Ford to glare bleakly at the mess of stricken over and unfinished text he was supposed to call his research.

When he descended the stairs shortly afterwards, he was met with Melody looking out of the window with a worried expression.

“He was desperate to go outside”, she said, “so I unbolted the flap door for him. Don’t worry, he’s just across the yard, I can see him from here. Soos and Stan promised to keep an eye on him while working on the guesthouse. Is… everything okay?”

Ford couldn’t answer; he had no idea.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He was already in bed, although still wide awake, when he heard a slight creaking sound from his door he’d left open. From the corner of his eye he could see Bill floating across the room and settling on the window sill. He was quiet and showed no intention of disturbing his rest, from which Ford assumed that at least he was no longer as agitated as before.

He was already falling asleep when he noticed that the sound of Bill’s breathing was unusually heavy (and clearly audible, for that matter); but he was too tired to make much of it.

When he woke up in the dark some hours later with the same sound hovering right above him, it was a little harder to ignore.

“Now you’ve really done it… Sixer…”

If Ford had expected to be waken up, it was most certainly not with a barely audible whisper.

And certainly… not small fingertips running along his lower lip, either.

“Bill?” he muttered and squinted from the bright glow of Bill’s surface that crashed on his retina the second he opened his eyes. “What are you doing?”

The demon’s breaths fell low and heavy on his face. He had a pained look in his eye, and his frown was so deep his pupil was barely visible below his eyelid.

“Answer me”, Ford repeated as he sat up and grabbed the hand on his lips to push it off. This was a rather strange time of the day for something like this; besides, there was something smoldering in Bill’s silence that created an almost intimidating atmosphere in the room. “What is this? And what was the… incident earlier today about?”

“Well gee, genius, I don’t fucking know”, Bill huffed quietly. His tone of voice was barely a shaky attempt of annoyance. “Guess you won this one round against supratemporal knowledge, because I don’t _fucking_ know what it is this fleshcage and you – especially _you_ – are doing to me. Take the prize, smartass. Have your cake and eat it too. Bastard.”

“What exactly do you want, Cipher?” Ford asked, now getting irritated himself. “I need to rest. And so do you.”

Bill scoffed. “Rest? Damn straight. You’re telling me I need rest – _me_ , a being of pure energy, which in itself is ludicrous – and the big joke here is… you… just… don’t… give me a break. You, you… It’s always _you_.”

“Go to sleep, Bill”, Ford jerked out. “I’ve had enough of your never-ending blame game.”

He was about to turn on his side and dive back under covers, when an iron grip of eight fingers around his wrist stopped his hand midair.

“You know what I want, Sixer? You know what I _need_?” Bill snarled, his voice so strained that it was a note or two more high-pitched than usual. “I need you to cut the bullshit, be the heroic noble big guy you always purport to be, and _for once_ … _finish_ …” Ford gave a start when a smooth, incredibly hot surface dug itself against his palm, “…what you… started.”

“Wh… I… don’t understand what you’re talking about”, Ford stammered quietly. He could feel his pulse quickening, rising into muffled pounding in his ears. He didn’t – he truly didn’t understand – but the feverish look in Bill’s eye as his gaze wandered to nowhere in particular, the stinging pain of little fingernails clawing at the back of his hand as the heated edge of Bill’s lower side pressed even deeper –

“ _Shut up._ ”

His hand twitched with pain, and it was immediately followed by an upward motion of Bill’s frame that all but violently ground itself into his palm. It should’ve hurt… but it didn’t.

Ford certainly didn’t understand what was going on, but when a faint moan broke out in the all too silent room and turned every inch of his skin into a pool of shivers, he felt like he somewhat knew _why_.

“N-no… Bill.” His free hand gripped the sheets when Bill moved against him again. And again. This wasn’t… This made no… “Y-you have to stop.”

“Shut up”, Bill choked out, shaky gasps turning his words into a vague slur every time his body relaxed for half a second before tensing again. “Sh-shut u-“

“Bill, st…”

Ford felt weak; his legs felt weak, his head was spinning, his breaths shallow.  Bill’s hands were all over his, clawing at it and dragging it across himself, searching for the right amount of friction for… what?

His underside felt softer, as if its sharp edge was giving in and… It was definitely softer… and… wet? How…? _Why_ …

“I hate this”, Bill whined quietly. “I ha… hate this…”

But his movements were getting fast and fitful, more desperate, and Ford could do nothing but watch.

“ _Sixer_ …”

And every time Bill breathed out his name, another nervous knot twisted his insides.

“Bill, don’t do this”, he tried once more, his voice so thin he hardly recognized it as his own. It was as if Bill didn’t even hear him. Or perhaps he was simply too breathless to retort.

And then… it was over. As Bill’s trembling frame jolted against his fingers one last time, a strange sound he didn’t know he was holding in escaped his own throat almost in unison with the demon’s bit down moan. Bill finally let go of his hand and clambered clumsily away from him before flopping on his back and gasping for breath, legs still shuddering and rubbing against the sheets.

The quiet of the night mixed with the sound of their uneven breathing, and Ford found himself praying everyone else in the house was still fast asleep.

His hand felt strangely wet and burned with the scratches Bill’s nails had dragged across his skin.

_Oh… god._

“You know, Fordsy”, Bill muttered a little hoarsely after what could’ve as well been ten minutes or half an hour, “some things just never change. You get your fancy talk on about cooperation, teamwork and whatnot, but when push comes to shove…”

He got shakily on his knees and floated up, heading towards the door without giving another look at the man. “It’s always me who ends up having to do all the work.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ford’s heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Its hammering sound in his ears was so loud it felt like the darkness of his room was throbbing along with it. Every once in a while an almost violent course of shivers ran through him, making him curl up on himself as the phantom sensation of Bill’s almost ethereally smooth surface sliding back and forth against his hand felt too real to ignore. His body was unable to ignore it.

These feeling were strange and unknown to him. He didn’t understand them, he didn’t know what to do with them, and he was scared. Scared and… angry.

 _This was all wrong_.

Suddenly he sat up in his bed like he’d been struck by lightning. This… didn’t make sense. This was Bill. _Bill Cipher_. The omniscient ruler of chaos and nightmares, the monster who threatened to obliterate existence itself. His former muse. His guide in the path of knowledge. His friend and his worst enemy.

There had been – there _was –_ attraction… between them, that much he couldn’t deny. It was only natural, giving their long history of opposition against one another. It was merely an escalation of their decades-lasting bond, their rivalry and companionship, something of an uncanny outlet to every bit of grudge and hatred burning between them over the years. Sooner or later, all that tension was almost bound to ignite a spark of something completely different.

_But not like this._

He jumped to his feet in a sudden fit of agitation and started pacing around the room, running his hands feverishly through his hair.

There was no explanation for this. Bill was a non-corporeal being. His physical form was merely a means of restrainment. It wasn’t supposed to… There was no purpose, no reason, no justification for this. Bill experiencing pain and exhaustion was understandable, but… s… _sexual desire?_

…Impossible. This didn’t make sense. _This didn’t make sense._

Why would the spell implement – why would his imposed corporeality – why would _Bill_ –

He went to his working desk and stared at the latest entry in his journal. _Firm, brick-like components_ … No, no, no. That was a false claim. The bricks weren’t… always firm, he’d just witnessed… He’d _felt_ it himself. He grabbed a pen and struck out the line with so much pressure it almost tore through the paper… Then the next one… then the next one. This was all wrong. All his observations were invalid. His study methods, his research, _everything_ was wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

_Wrong!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Grunkle Ford! Grunkle Ford, we have to go!”

“Great uncle Ford, are you in there? Nope, looks like he isn’t. Let’s check the bunker!”

Ford lay still until he could no longer hear the twins’ hasty footsteps echoing in the staircase. He heaved a sigh and tugged his blanket over his head. He’d managed to fall asleep what felt like only moments ago, and he needed a few more before he could face a new day.

But now that he was awake, images from last night were fast to flood his mind, and eventually he had no choice but to get up. He peeked out of his room; the corridor, and the whole house for that matter, sounded unusually quiet, but he wrapped his right hand into a piece of cloth either way. He was ashamed to even look at the flared red lines scratched all over its back, and explaining them to his family was the last thing he wanted to start the day with.

It might be best to fake an accident and cover his hand in bandages until the marks faded.

As he made his way cautiously downstairs, the silence as well as the missing smell of fresh coffee in the air soon convinced him that the house was empty. When he checked the kitchen –

“Sup, nerd?”

He was startled by the sound of a familiar voice addressing him before he had chance to make eye contact with the unexpected guest.

“Rick?” He stared at the messy scientist dressed in Stan’s old morning gown loafing at the kitchen table. “What are you… How long have you been here?”

“How long have I – since t-two days ago, genius. Came to check up on your flock, but you’d taken the brats for a joyride, so I hung around. Glad to see you t-too, by the way.”

“What? Two… _Two days_?”

“You saying you haven’t seen me at all? Jeez. L-last time I checked, it was the three-sided prick who was missing an eye, not you.”

“Where is Bill?” Ford asked immediately. “He should never be left unsupervised.”

Rick gestured towards the window. “Yeah, your brother told me to keep an eye on him while he’s away, so I taped the asshole to a tree. How ‘bout a game of darts, Sixer?”

 _Sixer._ Hearing the nickname sent a shiver down Ford’s neck. “Uh… I think I’ll pass.”

“Buzzkill.” Rick leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “So h-how’s it going between you two? Those matching friendship bracelets are pretty cute”, he jeered, nodding at the tracking device around Ford’s wrist. “Bit misleading, though. Stan told me you went full Rambo on t-those stick arms some weeks back. He was all crusty about you having f-freaked out the kids, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same… And what’s up with _your_ hand, anyway?”

“An accident”, Ford said quickly, fighting the urge to hide his hand behind his back. It would’ve been too suspicious. “We recently captured an avian hybrid that has since manifested severe superanomalous symptoms. Would you like to see it? It’s caged and secured in the basement.”

“Eh, whatever”, Rick shrugged. “I shouldn’t get a-any more involved in this clusterfuck, but since you’ve got such a hard-on to show off the newest freak in your freak collection –“

“Rick, please _._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Down in the basement, Rick lost interest in the anomaly in favor of a bottle of whiskey before Ford could even start explaining the intricacies of crossdimensional weirdness contamination and the strange behavior it caused. He sighed and joined his fellow scientist for a drink; he saw no reason not to.

“Rick, I need to ask you a question regarding the Blood Chains”, he said after a while, staring at his empty glass.

“Fire away.”

“Are there, well… any exceptions in their operating mechanics I should know about? Have there been any recorded instances of malfunction? That is not to say I have any reason to believe so –“

Rick gave him a sharp glance despite the slight blur in his eyes. He was already four drinks ahead of Ford. “Don’t b-beat around the bush, doctor. I-if the chains aren’t working and we’re all fucked, just spill it.”

 “No, no”, Ford said quickly, “the chains are working just fine, do not worry. There have been, uh, singular occasions where I haven’t quite been able to follow the principles upon which they operate, that is all. I was wondering if you could shed some light on these rather confusing circumstances.”

Rick let out a long huff through his nose. “Look, here’s the deal, Sixer.” (Ford really wished Rick would not call him that. Not today.) “The spell was crafted in Dimension 6¤4r by a b-bunch of nasty motherfuckers who were hellbent on keeping their kids in the leash to protect their bloodline. You know, one of those puritan eugenic cultures. Shitty business, I t-tells you. T-the catch is they were already blood related. The chains weren’t designed for intergeneric use, much less interracial, much less _interdimensional_.”

“You… never told me this.”

“So what if I didn’t?” Rick snarled. “Wouldn’t have made any d-difference to y-you, you bullheaded dork.”

It was true. The Blood Chains had been their last resort before they ran out of time; besides, he’d been well aware of the risks right from the start.

“So what I’m trying to get at here”, Rick continued after another gulp of whiskey, “i-is that the fact you had to trap Cipher in the physical realm added an extra layer to your… bond or whatever. Which actually isn’t half bad, since it ensures the b-bastard can’t murder you in your sleep. The chains are connected directly to your nervous system, so they do the job even when you’re not actively telling them to.”

“Yes, that much I have figured out myself. However…” Ford shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Assuming a purely hypothetical approach, what if… the chains don’t work even if I _want_ them to?”

“Well, that’s some bullshit hypothesis you’ve got there, buddy. That’s like saying gravity falls, amiright?”

That… made no sense.

Rick chuckled. “Well, since I’m already sh-shitfaced enough to make a pun _that_ bad, I’d say you better start looking for better company. So h-here’s an idea – why don’t you figure out how to join the rest of your folks in that hospital?”

“H- _hospital_?” Ford jumped up so fast his chair fell over. “What hospital? Rick, where is my family?”

“Wha, you didn’t hear? Mama Mystery’s giving birth. Y-you’re gonna be an aunt! Now buzz off, Grunkle Rick needs to sleep”, he slurred at Ford’s back already flying up the stairs. “Toodles, bitch.”


	11. Arc I | Entry No. 11

 

* * *

 

_Entry No. 11. The summer is drawing to an end.  
_

_We have come a long way, and yet I feel none the wiser._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Please, Ford.”

“It’s no use. I have already asked him twice.”

“Well, you know what they say about third times and charms, right…?”

Ford sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll go.”

“Good! Just remember to be nice this time.”

“I have been nothing but nice to him, Melody. But when there’s no response whatsoever, it makes little difference.”

“Whoa, brother, take that shade elsewhere! And here I thought I was supposed to be the grumpy one”, Stan noted cheerfully. With a newborn in his arms and his pet peeve nowhere in sight, he was obviously enjoying the situation to the fullest.

Ford was envious of his brother’s good spirits. He’d barely made it to the hospital in time to hear the first cries of “Mr. Mystery the Third”, as Soos had called his newborn son with tears in his eyes; and as overwhelming as it was to see the baby cradled by the fatigued but relieved mother, the time he was able to block Bill from his thoughts – there was no trusting Rick’s capability of watching over the demon in the state Ford had left the scientist in – didn’t last for long.

Begrudgingly he had to excuse himself while the rest of the family was only getting started with the fuss around its newest member, most of them too enthralled to even notice him slipping out of the room. Stanley, however, did notice; and the look he gave him haunted Ford as he walked out of the hospital, steps hastened by something distantly reminiscent of guilt.

 _You brought this on yourself, Poindexter_.

He knew. He knew this well, and yet… He’d never thought the weight of his responsibility over Bill would feel so… unreasonable.

Whether it had been his intention or not, Bill had already succeeded in making him feel like an outsider in his own family.

The knowledge of this didn’t make it any easier for him to stand at the Mystery Shack’s totem pole, looking up to the triangle demon perching in a lotus position at its peak.

“Bill.” Third time’s the charm, huh? Well, he might as well be nice, but he wasn’t going to beg. “Would you at least consider coming down to meet the baby? For Melody’s sake. You’re in rather good terms with her, are you not? …Bill, at least have the decency to answer me.”

He couldn’t believe he’d just applied to the decency of _Bill Cipher_ , of all beings. “Have it your way, then. And you are not fooling me with your play-pretend”, he couldn’t stop himself from adding bitingly before walking away. “I’ve seen you meditate, and I know you always do it with your eye open.”

With that notion, Bill’s eye flashed open immediately. For a short while, Ford waited for a verbal response in vain; but the barely noticeable crinkle that had appeared on the triangle demon’s correspondent part for a brow told him all he wanted to know.

When he returned to his family, he noticed one member of the crew was missing. “Where’s Dipper?”

“On the phone”, Mabel answered a little crankily. “I called our parents to tell them the news, but I barely got started before Dip-Dop snatched the phone from me. He said he’ll be quick, but then he wandered off with the phone, and now I’ve got a fully scripted series of nineteen baby-related knock-knock jokes and no audience! He stole my show, Grunkle Ford!”

“Don’t you worry, pumpkin, you’ve got plenty of time to drive your parents crazy”, Stan comforted; on their ride back home he’d tried to explain to Mabel that knock-knock jokes weren’t meant to be linked together and played like a game of Clue, but to no avail. “Wonder what your twin brother is up to, though.”

“Ooh! Maybe he’s finally got himself a girlfriend”, Mabel suggested immediately with a grin.

Ford laughed. “I doubt that is the case. He has been spending all his time awake in the basement laboratory helping me with my research. If he had met someone new, it would have to be through his Dreamscape.” He held a short, thoughtful pause. “Well, I… suppose that’s within the realm of possibilities, giving my own experience with such encounters.”

“Wait, what?” Mabel’s eyes caught a very specific kind of sparkle in them. “Grunkle Ford, you’ve had a Dreamscape girlfriend?”

Ford startled. “What? No, no, I was thinking of Bill.”

He was sure the silence that followed felt uncomfortable only to himself. “Our first meeting was in the Dreamscape, you see”, he hurried to add either way. “Well, I, uh, think I’ll have to check Dipper for any ominous spells he might’ve unsuspectingly read out loud in the forest. I don’t doubt his judgment in the slightest, but in Gravity Falls, you never know.”

“Well, the kid did raise the dead once just to prove a point”, Stan mused. “I wouldn’t put it past him to summon some kind of a hellspawn girlfriend while he’s at it. You two dorks seem to have a knack for that sorta thing.”

Ford’s cheeks felt hot. “Stanley, I don’t quite follow your train of thought, nor do I care to.” He cleared his throat. “Let Dipper talk to his parents in peace and give the new resident a tour around the house, will you? And Soos, the Shack might be demon-proofed, but I’d say there’s still work to be done before it’s baby-proofed as well.”

“On it, Mr. Ford”, Soos nodded and squeezed the hand in his, earning a weary but nevertheless beaming smile from his wife.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The following days went by fast; for once, the usual weirdness always on the move around the Shack was replaced with the everyday routines and schedules brought by the new child in the house, and instead of world-shattering events and grand mysteries, the family’s days were spiced with simple moments of shared joy (and occasional wakeup calls in the middle of the night).

The baby was given the name Trevor after Melody’s favorite cereal brand. After the rest of the family had univocally turned down Soos’ first proposal for his middle name – despite being the perfect combination of the parents’ names, “Moose” just didn’t sit right with them – the second suggestion was received by not only an unanimous approval, but an extremely rare sight of a certain old man covertly drying the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Urgh, buzz off, everyone”, said old man grunted, vaguely (and fruitlessly) shooing off the massive group hug around him following the announcement. “You’re gonna suffocate me _and_ my new namesake here. Heh, the little one’s got big boots to fill, I’ll tell ya that.”

And with that notion, Trevor Stanley Ramirez was warmly welcomed as a new resident of the Mystery Shack.

The other new resident, however, wasn’t nearly as amiable towards his surroundings. Not only refusing to greet the baby, it was as though Bill had given up on interacting with the family altogether; aside from the slight creaking of the flap door that could be heard every morning before they’d woken up and every night after they’d gone to sleep, he showed no signs of moving from his newly claimed post. He no longer participated in breakfast with a cup of tea, nor did he float upstairs to Ford’s room at night to sleep at his usual spot on the window sill.

Ford didn’t do much to initiate contact with him. The few times he gave in to Melody’s pressing pleas, there was no response whatsoever. And for the time being, Ford preferred it that way.

“It’s not just him refusing to talk”, Melody noted one day with a hint of blame in her voice. “You’re avoiding him too. Something happened between you and him the day before Trevs was born, I just know it. Talk to me, Ford. This house has had enough secrets for the summer.”

Ford couldn’t look straight at her as he forced out an excuse of an answer. “We… simply had something of a falling out over our usual disagreements. I’m an anomaly researcher, he’s an anomaly. This juxtaposition being the very premise of our relationship, we simply cannot avoid some friction between us.” He cringed inwardly at his own choice of words. “But I promise you it’s nothing too serious.”

“Well, I sure hope so”, Melody said quietly and glanced at Trevor, who had fallen asleep on his father’s chest on the living room floor. Over the past few days, Soos had been busy seizing the opportunity to finally realize his dream and lie on the floor without being judged. “He should at least come down and meet the baby. I don’t want him to feel left out.”

“He’s leaving himself out on his own accord”, Ford reminded her with a slight frown. “He isn’t a part of this family, nor should we expect him to act as such.”

“You think?” There was a long silence. “Then… what is he?” she asked then. “Roommate? Assistant? Pet?”

 _A prisoner_ , Ford heard his own voice answer in his head. “Out of those options, an assistant might be closest to the truth, albeit one whose contribution is involuntary.”

“So like a tool, huh?” Melody sighed. “That’s a little cold, Stanford. Maybe that was the case when you brought him back, but… don’t you think that has changed over the summer? At all?”

Ford didn’t answer. He felt like there was some truth to her words, and he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even though Ford didn’t particularly mind getting silent treatment for the time being, there was a flipside to Bill’s absence from the family: his presence to the rest of the world.

It didn’t take the tourist masses long to catch sight of the triangular shape glimmering in sunlight on top of the totem pole. With help from the veteran in the business, Soos hurried to come up with a story of an ancient worshipping tradition that “answers to gold with gold”. It didn’t take long before they had to dig a small pond in front of the pole in which people could throw their coins. Surprisingly, Bill didn’t seem to mind being used for making money, and for once Stan could put up with his presence without protesting loudly at every turn.

While tourists may have loved this new mysterious sighting, the locals were soon proved a far more problematic audience.

The news travelled fast, and within a week the Mystery Shack was getting daily visits by townspeople who wanted to see the new little resident. Their reactions to spotting the ominously familiar shape atop the pole was less curiosity and more thinly veiled terror – during his visit, Tad Strange announced he was feeling “strange”, and was immediately taken to the local hospital – or plain outrage, and many demanded an explanation for this unwanted reminder of something the town had collectively agreed to never speak of.

“I don’t know, dudes, you should ask the teenagers”, Soos told Mr. and Mr. Durland, sweating uncomfortably under their suspicious glare. “’S what those little rascals do, y’know… Always… climbing up totem poles n’stuff…”

“Never mind who put it there”, said Sheriff Daryl Durland, formerly known as Blubs. “The issue is there have been reports of it blinkin’. Hubby here saw it too, but he is a dearie with an overly wild imagination.”

Deputy Durland beside him pouted. “Am not!”

“Are too”, the sheriff giggled before putting his serious face back on. “In any case, Mr. Ramirez, we can’t have statues blinkin’ around and scarin’ people, and it’s up to you to ensure it won’t blink no mo’. Is that clear?”

“Clear as day”, Soos saluted. “No blinking. Said and done.”

Before leaving, the officer couple tried to interrogate Dipper as well, but the boy, busy talking on the phone again, shooed them off.

“Dude”, Soos whispered to Trevor as soon as he’d made his way back inside the house. “Daddy just lied to the police. Daddy’s an outlaw now. Far out, dog.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Dipper?”

“Whoa!” Dipper yelped as he almost barged straight into his grand uncle, just barely dodging him. “Oh man, I’m so sorry, Great uncle Ford! I was -”

“On the phone”, Ford finished his sentence with a slight smile. “You’ve been doing that quite a lot as of late. But I’m fine, don’t worry. In fact, I was just looking for you – would you mind coming to check up on the Swaven with me?”

“Oh! Of course. Just a second…” He turned back to his phone. “Mom – mom, listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you later, okay? …Okay, fine, he’ll talk to you later as well. You too. Bye.”

“Am I wrong in assuming that your mother wanted to talk to either me or Stanley?” Ford asked him as they descended the stairs to the laboratory.

“Uh… Yeah. You, mostly.”

Ford sighed. “She must be concerned over your involvement in my research… I believe she’s caught up on the dangers of our endeavors. I must call her soon and apologize to her for the worry I’ve caused.”

“No, she’s just –“

“However, you can rest assured that I will also mention how pivotal you have been to us ever making this much progress”, Ford continued warmly. “Don’t worry, Dipper. I am sure your mother trusts you – and me – enough to let you do this. You have a rare gift of both intelligence and bravery, and it would be a crime to restrain you from putting it to use.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I think you’re right. Thanks, Great uncle Ford.” Aside from the slight blush spreading to the boy’s ears, his response to praise was a lot more coherent than what it had been a couple of months ago: the compulsive fiddling, stuttering and avoiding his great uncle’s gaze had been replaced by confidence, albeit still a little unsteady.

Perhaps Dipper, too, had changed some during this eventful summer.

They ran the daily checkup routine on the anomaly and came to the same conclusion as every day for the past week and a half: no noticeable change in the Swaven’s behavior, condition or state of activity. In his mind, Ford was starting to wonder if capturing it had been such a big step forward after all.

 _Patience_ , he told himself. _That is all you need_.

“So… What’s the plan?” Dipper asked as they sat around the table for a cup of coffee – both had grown something of a liking to the 30-year-old rosehip flavored coffee Ford had brought with him from the bunker.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“The Swaven. Are we going to just scrutinize it like this throughout the winter, or is there something else we could try? You know… something involving Bill?”

“Unfortunately, Bill’s involvement remains a wild card for the time being”, Ford answered. “We are currently, well, not in our best terms when it comes to communication, and there is no way of telling how long his moody phase will last.”

“Maybe I should try to talk to him”, Dipper suggested, but Ford’s frown turned down his enthusiasm instantly.

“Dipper, I don’t think that is a good idea. Granted, you do have a history of dealing with him, and I trust you know well how manipulative he can be. However, you are leaving in a few days, and you might simply not have enough time to make any difference.”

Dipper shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably. “Great uncle Ford –“

“It will be all right, trust me”, Ford stopped him. “I now realize Melody has helped me see a vital miscalculation in my original plans. I was too focused on getting results, and never stopped to think it would be necessary to rehabilitate Bill to his new form and surroundings. I myself was terribly disoriented when I found myself trapped in the Nightmare Realm after the portal incident, and… well, the absence of time makes it difficult to estimate, but I’d say it took me an entire human year to fully accept my new situation and learn to work with it.”

He blinked rapidly to shake off the phantoms of fear and helplessness that clung to his first memories from beyond the portal, and looked up from his coffee cup to face his grand nephew. “In any case, I believe we need to prioritize Bill’s rehabilitation process in our current agenda. The superanomaly crisis in now in a somewhat dormant state, and any unpredicted changes can be monitored safely from here. For now, time is still on our side; we just need to get Bill on our side as well. I know that sounds like a mission impossible, but… Well, giving that Bill has a tendency to act against all expectations, we might as well prepare for the worst and hope for the best. You never know.”

If there was an inkling of doubt in Dipper’s eyes at his great uncle’s rather optimistic statement, he didn’t let it show in the firm nod he granted him.

Ford cleared his throat. “As for your original question, there are a few tests I would like to run on the Swaven during the winter. However, it will be rather challenging without my trusty assistant by my side. It is truly a shame you’ll have to leave… I might have to convince Stanley to be my temporary right-hand man for the duration of the experiments.” He laughed. “That is another mission impossible if I ever saw one.”

“That… won’t be necessary”, Dipper suddenly said, his voice surprisingly determined. “Don’t worry, Great uncle Ford, you won’t have to convince anyone. Especially Grunkle Stan, I mean, he’s got his hands full with the baby and the new ship blueprints. He’d just blow his gasket on you for even asking. No need for that, right?”

“Dipper, what –“

“I’m… not leaving. I’ll stay in Gravity Falls this winter.”

Ford opened his mouth in surprise, then closed it again, giving a long look at the teen. “This… is what all those phone calls have been about, isn’t it?”

“Well… yeah. But don’t worry, I’ve got everything figured out! I’ve been talking to my teachers and the study counsellor, and they say it’s totally doable. It’s my last year, and I’m already ahead in my studies. I have all the home schooling material needed, and whatever obligatory class attendances remain, I can do those in Gravity Falls High. This way, I can stay and help you with your research. You said my role is pivotal, right?”

“Dipper –“

“And I want to help you with Bill as well”, Dipper continued, cheeks glowing with nervous enthusiasm. “I was there when he was resurrected. I took part in reciting the spell, so… I feel responsible for him, too.”

“Dipper, listen –“

But the boy pressed on. “I know it’s dangerous, and I know you’d do anything to keep me out of harm’s way, but… Great uncle Ford, I _want_ to be a part of this. Four years ago, you offered me an assistant’s position, remember? I’m almost done with high school now, and I’m willing to reconsider that offer. Working side by side with you is all I’ve ever wanted, and this time, I feel like I’m actually needed here. The fate of the world is at stake, who would even put high school studies past that? And besides… All of my personal ambitions are here, not in Piedmont. You said it yourself, didn’t you? It would be a crime to let my gift go to waste. That’s why…” He stopped to draw breath. “I’m going to stay in Gravity Falls. The only thing left is my parents’ approval, but… I’m sure they’ll come around, with your help.”

Ford allowed him a moment to catch his breath before reaching to squeeze his hand. “Have you talked to Mabel about this?”

“Uh… Well, I did, as an ‘what if’ scenario of sorts, but…” The uncomfortable look in Dipper’s eyes revealed the answer before it was said out loud. “She laughed it off as a joke. But I can’t just keep following her around, can I? All she'd do is berate me for following my own dreams and goals… like everyone else.”

“Well, I’m not berating you, am I?” Ford asked with a gentle smile.

“Uh, no, you’re not. And I’m… really grateful for that.” Dipper smiled back, then let out a heavy sigh. “I’m just… tired of living up to other people’s expectations, you know? When I’m here, I finally feel like my own man. Like I don’t need to constantly tone down my interests and goals for the sake of my sister, or my parents, or my social credibility… It’s so frustrating.”

“I understand, Dipper. I truly do.” Ford sighed as well. “I hope what I’m about to say won’t sound too patronizing. I can only speak of my own experience, and it is, no doubt, vastly different from yours despite some striking similarities. But I need you to hear me out.” He squeezed the boy’s hand again. “In your age, these crises are bound to happen. And the moment something will start to feel like a solution to all your problems is the moment you need to slow down.”

He could hear the disappointment in the other’s voice. “Great uncle Ford…”

“I know this may appear an unnecessarily harsh conclusion”, he continued calmly, “but the fact that you feel troubled is a sign it’s something you need to work out with yourself and your loved ones. I know very well what it’s like to feel cornered by the expectations of others, and to me, running away from my problems did not end up particularly well.”

“Oh… Yeah.” Dipper’s gaze wandered to the remotest corner of the room.

“I understand our circumstances are different, and I am not expecting you to know how to not make the same mistakes I once did. But I can give you one piece of advice. You need to talk to your sister about this properly before making up your mind.”

“Mabel… shouldn’t be the one to decide for my future”, Dipper said quietly.

“You are definitely right about that”, Ford admitted. “But something about the fact you are trying to make this decision completely on your own terms tells me that you are not ready to spend the following year without her. And I think I can safely assume that she’s not ready to let go of you, either. It might well be your final year together before college studies, among other things, will take you to different paths of life entirely.”

He held a pause to give Dipper a chance to protest, but aside from a barely audible sniffle, there was no response.

“As flattered as I am by your faith in my guidance and would be honored to have you as my full-time apprentice, I will have to postpone that offer for another year”, he said. “I am very sorry to pull the plug on your plans. My current relations with Bill are quite volatile, and…” He drew breath. “I will tell you this in confidence. There have been… minor issues with the Blood Chains.”

Dipper raised his gaze. “Issues? What issues?”

“Like I said, they are very minor in nature and hold no potential of causing harm”, Ford emphasized. “There have been some instances where the chains haven’t manifested under my will, and I am in the middle of investigating –“

“I knew it”, Dipper blurted. “Those bandages in your hand you refused to talk about last week. Bill hurt you, didn’t he?”

“Well, it…” Ford grimaced; he couldn’t bring himself to lie at his great nephew’s face when he was in an emotionally vulnerable state. “…technically that… might be true, in part, albeit purely depending on your definition of –“

“How is that not causing harm, Great uncle Ford? He attacked you! This – this is bad! We need to contact that Rick guy –“

“I need you to calm down, Dipper”, Ford said, raising his voice enough to silence the young man. “Rick already knows. The, uh… attack, if you insist on calling it that, was barely enough to leave a mark. It was completely harmless, merely an unprecedented volume of physical… contact.” He could feel slight heat spreading on his face, and tried his best to not think back on the situation he was being forced to address. “I can assure you it is nothing to worry about.”

“Honest?” Dipper insisted. “You really aren’t just playing it down?”

“I give you my word. However, it drove me to realize that I am not in the full knowledge of how the Blood Chains operate. There is also the issue of you having taken part in the incantation. It has only now occurred to me that you may have some control over the chains as well. I received some information on the chains’ origins from Rick, and I will need to revise my theory upon this new knowledge.”

“Wait, does that mean I’m bound to him as well?”

Ford frowned thoughtfully. “That shouldn’t be possible, seeing that it was my blood the chains were enchanted with. But giving that we are of the same bloodline, there might be some repercussions to your participation in the spell that we haven’t taken into account as of yet. If anything, it should work the other way round – through some indirect link, Bill might be bound to _your_ will as well as mine. But that is up to me to find out, and I’d rather see more closely to this once you are a safe distance away from Bill.”

“Whoa”, Dipper said. Then he remembered the original topic, and his expression slumped. “So… I take it you’re declining my application?”

“Oh no, nobody’s declining anything”, Ford smiled. “I am simply postponing it for until you’ve finished your studies in Piedmont and sorted things out with your family. If you still feel the same way next year, I promise you’ll have a fully approved apprenticeship awaiting you.”

For a moment, Dipper seemed to be weighing his options. He settled for a small smile. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it, Great uncle Ford.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh boy”, Stan sighed as he finally hung up the phone. “’twas an earful I did _not_ deserve. That knucklehead really was hellbent on staying here, wasn’t he?”

Ford nodded. “I had a long talk with him earlier today, and it appears I managed to change his mind. He said he’ll sleep on it before letting his parents know, but I trust his judgment.”

“Would’ve been nice if he let them know it was his own idea, too”, grunted Stan, still picking his ear as if it was hurting. “I didn’t really need a reminder of how little trust they have in me as a caretaker. As if I was the one to blame for the little nerd squad thing you two got going on.”

“Well, you do have a point”, Ford admitted. “Perhaps it should’ve been me receiving that earful. I apologize for not making the call myself.”

Stan slumped into his chair. “Yeah, you owe me a solid, brother. In fact, make it a dozen. This whole summer’s been one big mishap on your end, I’ll tell ya that.”

“That’s… a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No, Stanford, I don’t. I mean it.”

“…Fair enough.”

A silence followed; one of the many, thought Ford. They might’ve agreed to leave their mutual grudges to the past, but the awkward silences and problems in communication hadn’t gone anywhere. They were still two stubborn old men with a thirty-year gap between them.

“So…” For quite a rare occasion, Stan was the first to break the silence. “Guess it’s official now, huh?”

“What is?”

“The three-sided bastard is really here to stay, right?”

Ford turned to face his brother. “Bill?”

“Yeah, ‘s what I said”, Stan grunted back, avoiding Ford’s gaze. “Was kinda hoping you’d come to your senses, shove him into a barrel and send’m floating downstream or something. But now that the Ramirez have adopted him like a housecat and everything’s arranged down to a tee and a goddamn flap door with that psycho’s name on it… There’s no turning back no more, is there?”

“Stanley, there was never turning back to begin with”, Ford said darkly. “I am bound to him for life. You know that.”

“I know, I know, can’t a man have a bit of hope?” Stan snarled. “It’s not like I was asking for a miracle, Stanford. Wait, scratch that, maybe hoping you’d actually use your head for once does count as one. Heh.”

“Is that why you haven’t stopped working on the blueprints of the Stan-O-War III?”

Another silence.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought it up.

“What do you mean, ‘stopped working’?” Stan then asked. “You’ve got your brainchild, like hell I’m giving up mine.”

“Stanley…” Ford sighed. His chest felt tight. “I’m… sure you realize I’m no longer able to set sail with you.”

“Yeah, Ford, I _realize_ that. I’m no genius, but you don’t have to talk to me like I’m an idiot, either. And I’m not building the ship for _you_.”

“Are you saying… you’re building it for yourself?” Ford asked, this time with more than a hint of fear in his voice. Was his brother planning to… leave him? And set sail all by himself? What a ridiculous, reckless… impossible idea. Stanley wouldn’t be able to handle the sea on his own, not in his age, not with his steadily weakening eyesight.

Was this what it had all come to? Was this the price he had to pay for bringing Bill back? Was he going to lose his brother one more time because of him?

“Well, since I’m the only one living in the guesthouse, yeah, I guess I am. You got a problem with that?”

“Th… the guesthouse? Wait, Stanley, what are you…”

“Oh, come on, like you haven’t seen that extension element we’ve already been working on for a full week now. I’m building the Stan-O-War II, Poindexter”, Stan said sternly, “and that’s final. If I can’t sail on it, I’m gonna live in it. And make helluva lot of cash while I’m at it too by labeling it a haunted pirate ship for the tourists.”

Relief washed over Ford like a wave. “That’s… That’s an excellent idea”, he laughed. “But… don’t you mean Stan-O-War III?”

“Yeah, sure. ’s what I said, right?”

 _No, you didn’t_ , Ford thought to himself, but decided to leave it at that. A heavy burden that had been weighing him down ever since Bill’s return had finally been lifted off his shoulders, and he didn’t want to ruin it by any more unnecessary bickering.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Another week went by, and Bill still hadn’t uttered a word.

The fall was steadily approaching, and along with it came the rains. Ford grinned as the first drops pattered melodically against the window sill of his room. This was it.

Bill endured it for an admirably long time; but as the family was huddled up in the living room waiting for dinner to be ready on the evening of the twins’ birthday, everyone could hear the telltale creak of the flap door and see the demon floating across the corridor towards the staircase, glancing around him as if he didn’t want to be seen. As his eye met the family, he huffed. “Great.”

As if him talking was a signal he could be approached again, Soos rose immediately from his chair and hurried towards him. “Oh dude, you’re soaking wet. Let me get you a towel. That rain got you good, didn’t it?”

Bill scowled at his notion, but, surprisingly, didn’t protest when Soos took his hat and hung it to the clothesline before handing him a kitchen towel to dry himself with.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea”, Melody said and got up as well, cradling Trevor in her arms. “But before that… there’s someone we’d like you to meet. Bill, this is Trevor. Trevor, Bill.”

Bill stared at the baby rather suspiciously as he floated closer. “Well, well, well”, he said then in his usual jarringly cheerful note. “Good old meatsacks and their roly-poly spawn! I must admit I’ve got a soft spot for tots as long as they aren’t world leaders the size of a ferris wheel.  They’re so cute and innocent it’s ridiculous! So much blank canvas, so little time! Going a bit out of the etiquette since my hat’s busy elsewhere, but the name’s Bill Cipher and the trade’s pure insanity. Here’s to a lifetime of business, Chico!”

He held out his hand out of an old habit, but wasn’t prepared for a similarly small one to immediately take a tight grip on it.

“Well, well, _well!_ ” he said again, looking pleasantly surprised. “They start younger and younger by the year! I like this little fellow already!”

“That settles it”, Ford muttered to Melody once she’d sat back down again. “I am never allowing him to be left alone with the baby. I won’t let him use his mind games on him. Do not worry, Melody, I will not let it happen.”

Melody just shone back at him. “He called him Chico”, she hummed. “Chico. I like it.”

Ford threw a cautious look at the demon, who was loudly taking note of the party decorations in the kitchen (“A celebration for being one year closer to your mortal demise? Now that’s something I can get behind! Have a good one, kids!”), and let out a heavy sigh.

To everyone’s surprise, Bill didn’t head for upstairs or any other place to isolate himself in once he’d finished his cup of tea, and instead followed the family to the living room. The demon took a seat on top of the old cuckoo clock and stared idly at the opposite wall, still shivering from the cold from time to time. Mabel, who was busy knitting her sixth sweater for Trevor in the past week, kept giving him wary side glances every other minute, until she eventually let lout a strange huff and marched out of the room.

She returned with a bright yellow bundle, which she proceeded to half hand over to, half throw at the triangle demon.

“Look, Bill”, she said, sounding a little troubled, “you’re a bully and a jerk, but I can’t leave Gravity Falls while still holding a grudge against you. Maybe you’ll redeem yourself one day while I’m gone, and then I’ll be thinking badly of you for no reason. And that’s not a Mabel thing to do. So… Here’s your sweater you don’t really deserve yet but I’m giving you anyway as a proactive reward for personal growth.” She paused. “Wait, you’re not exactly a person… Triangular growth, does that work? Does it work, Dipper?”

“Enough to deliver”, Dipper smirked. During the past few days, he’d been talking to his twin sister a lot more than before, and was visibly more relaxed than what he’d been in weeks.

Bill held up the curiously shaped sweater and stared at the embroidered letters running across its front. “’Down the yellow brick road’? Is this a joke, Shooting Star?”

“Yes!” Mabel grinned. “Road trip puns! You’re welcome!”

“How the hell am I supposed to wear this?”

“Easy, dude”, Soos, who had been curiously watching the two, suddenly put in and grabbed the sweater. “Just put your arm through here…”

“No – Question Mark, don’t you dare – don’t –“

“There you go, dog! Whoa, looks good on you! Nice work, Hambone!”

Mabel puffed her chest. “Always”, she proclaimed with pride.

Ford could barely hold back a smile from spreading on his face at the sight. Bill tucked crankily at the sweater’s hem, but showed no intention of taking it off. “I agree with Soos”, he said. “It does suit you, Bill. You should give Mabel a proper thank you for her kind gesture.”

Bill’s eye was fixed directly at him at his words; he said nothing, just stared at the man, showing no expression to speak of. His silence lasted long enough to allow a somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere to settle into the room.

“A thank you, you say?” he finally repeated. “Well, look what the six-fingered cat dragged in. How about I decide for myself whether or not I express my gratitude to your fleshling flock for keeping me in captivity and humiliating me with these stupid little games. I don’t need your fatherly guidance, Stanford, as if I didn’t know your inane human social conventions like the back of my hand! You got _some nerve_ to give me this bullsh-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Mabel cut him off, doing a furious X sign with her arms. “Not in front of the baby! Take that filthy mouth… eye… thing elsewhere, mister!”

“She’s right”, Ford joined her. “If you want to turn this into yet another argument, we’d better take it upstairs.”

Bill glared at him. “For once, I agree with you.”

“Well, then… Excuse us”, he said as he rose from his chair. “We’ll be back for dinner.”

“Can you please keep it down up there?” Melody asked with a slightly nervous smile. “The baby looks like he’s drifting off to sleep soon.”

“Certainly”, Ford nodded. “I promise there will be no shouting this time.”

He was making promises on Bill’s behalf as well, but he didn’t worry about it too much. Something in the demon’s eye – a gleam he’d gotten a little too familiar with in the course of the summer – told him that Bill hadn’t agreed to move upstairs just to argue with him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

This was… strange.

On one hand, there was the painful awareness of there being just one floor and a few relatively thin walls between them and the rest of the family. On the other, there were the lips. Warm and demanding, they were fast to win over his attention and push away every bit of common sense telling him how careless and ridiculous this was and that he shouldn’t be doing this, not now, not here, not after what had happened the other night… but there he was, ignoring it all.

Bill hadn’t even waited until the door was closed behind them; he’d downright _attacked_ the man, pushed him against the wall with an amount of force his small stature shouldn’t even be able to muster, and kissed him before a single word was exchanged over whatever argument they were supposed to have.

_Kissed him._

…Strange.

It felt almost as though Ford wasn’t doing anything on his own accord; the second his movement ceased for whatever distraction that jabbed at the edge of his consciousness, Bill’s lips were fast to capture his and make him continue. It was as forcible as it was soft, and yet he never resisted or fought back – it never even crossed his mind.

He certainly wasn’t in control of the situation… but he wasn’t out of control, either.

This was so… so strange.

None of this made sense. Bill was… There was nothing about Bill that should make him behave like this. It made absolutely no sense.

In that case, was it… something about _him_?

“Why are you humans like this”, came a whisper against his lips, as if to confirm his wandering thoughts. “Why are you so… misshaped and uneven and so damn… _soft_ …”

…He was right. Perhaps… it was all about the contrast. Perhaps Bill’s own solid smoothness awakened a fascination towards the elasticity of human skin. Bill was the embodiment of anomalous phenomena at their finest. However, even anomalies act upon a defined set of rules…

“…Focus, Sixer. Don’t leave me hanging…”

“B… Bill…”

…

This… still made no sense.

There _had_ to be a scientific basis for this.

What was… kissing, anyway? A social convention, more or less unique to humans. _…as if I didn’t know your inane human social conventions like the back of my hand._ That’s what he’d said back in the living room, hadn’t he? Was this merely a side effect of Bill being rehabilitated to his new social environment?

“I said _focus_ , you –“

…He should… focus.

Focus on what?

Forget the explanation and… just…

His eyes had been closed for a while now. He opened them slightly, and was momentarily blinded by the golden glow pushed against him.

“…u-”

He flinched violently as he heard a tiny voice that wasn’t supposed to be there.

And when he saw his grand nephew standing ashen-faced at the doorway, he froze.

And only _then_ did he break off the kiss that had gotten quite sloppy towards the end of it. His paleness was matching with Dipper’s as he reached instinctively to wipe his mouth. “Dipp—“

“D-dinner’s ready”, Dipper choked out, voice breaking like he was twelve all over again, before disappearing into the staircase as fast as he possibly could.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper didn’t look anywhere near Ford or the triangle following in his wake as they joined the dinner table shortly afterwards.

“Oh! Nice to see both of you here”, Melody said with an approving smile. “I was sure someone was going to leave behind to pout. Did you kiss and make up already?”

There was a loud clatter as Dipper dropped his fork on the plate and left the table with haste, muttering something around “ _oh dear god I can’t_ ” on his way out of the kitchen.

“Yeesh, look at him go”, Stan commented dryly. “Can’t even say the word _kiss_ without the kid getting all weird about it. Ugh, hormones.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ford was almost ashamed for the relief he felt over the twins leaving the next day.

While the rest of the family was fussing around their luggage and money for bus tickets, Dipper, sitting a little farther away, was suddenly startled by a certain triangle demon floating to sit next to him.

“Pine Tree”, came a lukewarm greeting.

“Nope”, Dipper said just as curtly. He had been avoiding the demon for the entire summer, not to mention after what he’d… witnessed… the previous night, and he was not going to start small talk with him twenty minutes before leaving Gravity Falls. “Not talking to you. Go away.”

“Some scene you walked in on yesterday. Not something you’d expect from your wise and precious great uncle, I presume! Talk about disillusionment, amiright?”

“ _Nope._ ” Dipper stood up. “No, no, not a chance. Don’t even try to start with me. If you’re not leaving, I am. Good riddance.”

“Goldberg. Ceylon. 1968. 99-W.”

Something about this nonsensible string of words and numbers made Dipper turn around and stare at the somewhat smug expression in the demon’s eye. “What was that?”

“Just some food for thought”, Bill answered, inspecting his nonexistent fingernails. “Seems like you’ll be needing a distraction to get certain unpleasant images out of your head with. Besides, I’m bored.”

“Well, guess you have to go harass somebody else for your entertainment. Not interested, sorry.”

“Too late, kid!” Bill cackled. “I can already hear the gears starting to turn in your curious little brain. I’ll be waiting for your answer the next time we meet, and if it’s up my alley, I’ll give you something nice in return. It’s a deal! And remember”, he said, giving the teen a mouthless smirk before heading upstairs, “someone is always watching.”

Dipper didn’t answer; mainly because someone else he desperately wanted to avoid was now approaching him.

“Dipper”, Ford called him as he sat down on the chair Bill had left unoccupied just a moment ago. His attempt of a smile fell short as he saw his grand nephew feverishly looking for an excuse to leave. “I… I know you have been avoiding me, and I, uh, perfectly understand why. But before you leave Gravity Falls, I think we need to talk about what, uh…” he cleared his throat, “…what you saw last night.”

“Great uncle Ford, I’d really rather not”, Dipper answered monotonously. “Not now. Mabel and I have a long ride ahead of us, and the shaky old bus is making me sick enough as it is. I… _really_ don’t want to talk or even think about it right now.”

“I… I understand. We can talk over the phone later, if that is what you want.”

“To be honest, I’d rather pretend it never happened at all”, Dipper muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it _at all_ , okay?”

Ford was a little taken aback by the faint note of betrayal in the boy’s voice. Had it really upset him that much?

“Well, I… won’t force you to, of course. I, uh, I’m not going to say it wasn’t what it looked like –“

“Great uncle Ford, please.” Dipper was starting to look nauseous again. This time, Ford took his plea to the heart.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave it at that. But I hope you will listen to me one day.” He put his hand on Dipper’s shoulder, who, to his relief, didn’t flinch away at the very least. “I am sorry, Dipper. I’m sorry for everything this summer has forced upon you, and I’m sorry I allowed you to get involved in it deeper than a responsible caretaker ever should. If you want to retreat from the project altogether, I understand completely.”

“No, I’m still in”, Dipper said quickly. “No doubt about that. I just need to… think things over, that’s all.”

Ford smiled warily. “I am glad to hear that. I hope you’ll have a safe trip back to Piedmont. We’ll see each other again during the holidays – perhaps Stanley’s plans for the guesthouse will be all built and ready by then. You’ll be surprised.”

_…Think things over._

As Ford stood with the others waving at the departing bus, he realized he had a lot of thinking over to do himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some art from Riki this time around! Slight NSFW warning for sloppiness. Teehee~  
> http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/141795289219/


	12. Arc I | Entry No. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content disclaimer for mild sexual content.

* * *

_Entry No. 12._

_It has been over thirty years since I last witnessed the seasons change in Gravity Falls. Perhaps something is changing within myself as well.  
_

 

 

* * *

_The Swaven appears to be doing well. No signs of superdimensional shifting in its body, as usual._

Just as Ford sighed and moved his journal aside, wondering if there was any point in writing down the same observations (or rather, the lack of thereof) every week, when Stan peeked from the staircase holding Trevor in his arms.

“Hey, Poindexter”, he called and pointed upstairs. “Dipper’s on the phone. He wants to speak with you.”

Ford was up on his feet in an instant. “Oh! Excellent”, he said, a relieved smile spreading on his face. He’d been waiting for his nephew’s call for almost two weeks, and worry over having done unrepairable damage on their relationship had taken a heavier grip on his chest every day that had passed without a word from the boy.

He glanced at the anomaly that was sprawled meekly on the floor beside its cage. “Stanley, could you watch over the Swaven while I’m on the phone? It’s completely passive and harmless, I assure you.”

“Eh, I guess”, Stan shrugged. “But don’t take too long, I’m on baby watch.” He nodded towards the pair of bright, curious eyes in his arms watching Ford intently.

Ford smiled. His brother had probably agreed to come fetch him from the laboratory just to baby-talk to his heart’s content when no one else was around. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

He hurried upstairs and found Melody in the kitchen talking to Dipper on video chat. He waved at Soos’ laptop as soon as he could see himself on the screen.

“Hello, Dipper”, he greeted. “I am glad to hear from you.”

“Hey, Great uncle Ford”, the teen answered, to Ford’s relief, with a smile, albeit a slightly awkward one. “So, uh, Melody, do you mind if we talked in private for a moment?”

“Oh, sure!” Melody nodded and got up. “I’ll be in the living room with Bill if you need me.”

Ford sat down on the now vacant chair. “Well then, Dipper, how –“

“Great uncle Ford, could you go to your room and take the old landline with you?”

There was a note of urgency in Dipper’s voice that made Ford startle a little. He understood the boy’s wish for privacy, seeing the issue between them that might have to be brought up sooner or later – he shuddered a bit at the thought – but the landline? “Well, certainly, but… why?”

“I’ll explain later”, Dipper eluded the question. “I’ll call you back in five minutes, okay? Talk to you soon.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ford picked up the old phone at the first ring. “It’s me, Dipper. I’m in my room now. No one else can hear us.”

“All right... You’re there, and I’m calling through a mixed line, so there’s no chance of… Um, anyway…” A sigh came through as a rustling sound through the old receiver. The boy spoke up again, this time with a little less anxious edge in his voice. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you before. I’ve been busy with a lot of stuff, and…”

“Don’t worry, Dipper”, Ford cut him off gently, “I’m just glad to hear your voice. Are you doing all right?”

“Yeah! Sure”, Dipper laughed a little nervously. “High school, Mabel, Waddles, parents… Same old. Nothing out of the usual.”

“Well, _that_ does sound a bit out of the usual”, Ford smiled. “Nothing new on Piedmont Paranormal?” It was a blog Dipper had started publishing his free-time investigations on under a pen name. Of course, Piedmont was nothing like the cornucopia of oddities that was Gravity Falls, but it did provide its fair share of ‘ _mystery for a keen eye’_ , as the slogan went.

“Yeah, uh, it’s on hiatus at the moment”, Dipper said, discomfort audible in his voice again. “Figured it’d be best if I didn’t, uh… Never mind. I’ve been busy with other things, that’s all.”

Ford frowned. “Do you mean high school? In this rapidly changing world, I’d imagine the senior year today must be even more stressful than what it was back in my day.”

“Yeah, I… guess it is.”

“I see.”

An awkward silence. Ford had feared one would occur sooner or later.

Dipper cleared his throat. “So I… I’ve done some looking into things, and… We don’t really know much about Bill, right?”

“That is true”, Ford nodded. “There is still a lot of investigation to be done as to how his current form is constituted, and how exactly the Blood Chains affect him.”

“No, I mean… Not just the chains and his physical form, but Bill himself, even before he was bound to you.”

“You are right about that as well”, said Ford thoughtfully. “Bill is an enigma. His origins as well as his motives are still largely unknown.”

“We don’t even know what he really is, right? Whether he’s a demon or a demigod or… something else.”

“Well, right”, Ford admitted, now a little puzzled. “It is rather difficult to categorize him, seeing how he appears to be more or less one of a kind. At times his mode of operation resembles that of a Faustian demon, while other times his demeanor follows no recognizable pattern whatsoever. He might simply be Bill Cipher, and that is all there is to it.”

A long silence followed. “Great uncle Ford, you’ve… uhm, you’ve heard of a being called… an incubus, haven’t you?”

Ford almost dropped the receiver. “ _What_? I… Yes, of course I’m familiar with the… but _how_ is it relevant  – …oh, good lord. Dipper, this is a terrible misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, it is”, said Dipper. Ford could hear the cringe in his voice. “If I’d known from the start, I would’ve never let you resurrect him. I mean, it’s weird, isn’t it? He never showed any signs of, uh, those kinds of powers before. But it makes perfect sense, right? The way you… you know, what with your shared history and all. And I don’t blame you, I think it’s something you can’t control? Uhm, I mean –”

“Wait, Dipper”, Ford cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose so forcefully it was probably going to leave a red mark. He couldn’t believe what he was now being forced to say. “As much as I’d like to confirm your doubts, it’s… not like that. Bill and I, we have a…”

He grimaced; this was, no doubt, one of the most shameful moments of his life. This would only make everything worse, but there was no way out. “The attraction is mutual. I don’t know where it started, but I suppose… that the shared history you mentioned might play a part in it. In any case, I can assure you it isn’t something caused by supernatural interference.”

“…oh. …Okay.”

“Don’t get me wrong”, Ford continued, startled by the unreadable tone of his nephew. “As much as I would like to provide you with a clear-cut explanation, unfortunately even I don’t have the insight I’d need to do so. The situation is very perplexing and all the more complicated for the both of us.”

He drew a deep breath before speaking again. “However, rest assured that my mission has not faltered. Bill is still my prisoner, and I intend to use his powers to stop the superanomaly crisis just as I have intended to do from the very beginning. Nothing has changed, Dipper. I ask you to trust me on this.”

Another long silence fell on the line. “Great uncle Ford”, the teen then said in an almost cautionary tone, “you need to be careful. You need to be _really_ careful.”

“I know that”, Ford answered bleakly, “and I will. There is no –“

“You can’t trust him”, Dipper pressed on before he could finish his sentence. “Do _not_ trust him. He’s going to try something. Don’t give him a chance. Don’t give him another reason to hurt you. He’ll try to cross you sooner or later, so… _don’t_ … give him anything to make it worse. Okay?”

For a moment, Ford was at a loss of words. This was the first time he’d heard his nephew address him so sternly. “I understand”, he then said. Truthfully, he didn’t. He had no idea what Dipper was talking about, but he didn’t let it concern him; the boy was clearly incapable of seeing the full picture. If anything, whatever he had with Bill would give him an advantage in the long run. What was there to worry about?

“I will be extremely cautious with him”, he said regardless. “I promise.”

The lack of a reply gave out that Dipper was still far from convinced, but he didn’t seem to be willing to continue on the topic. “So… Any news on the Swaven?”

“Not much to speak of, unfortunately. I was just checking on its condition when you called. Stanley is keeping an eye on it with Trevor while I’m on the phone.” Ford wanted to hark back to how the boy was doing, but he felt it would’ve been rather forced at this point, so he settled for continuing: “I should probably go free him from his babysitting duty.”

“Yeah… Okay”, he heard Dipper say reluctantly. “Actually, before you go, there’s something else I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you know anything… about Sandra Goldberg?”

Ford frowned. “Sandra Goldberg? I’m sorry, but it doesn’t ring any bells to me. Is this for a school assignment?”

“Yeah, no, it’s… Never mind. It’s not important.”

“Well, I beg to differ”, Ford retorted with a smile. “Anything you deem urgent enough to ask about is of great importance to me. I apologize for not being of much help this time around, but I promise to look into it later.”

“No, you don’t have to”, Dipper blurted out as if suddenly flustered. “It was a dumb question, anyway. Don’t worry about it. Boring school stuff is all, heh. I’ll just look it up myself.”

“How about this? We’ll both look it up and compare the results of our respective inquiries”, his grand uncle suggested. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah”, Dipper said, a bit of a smile coloring his voice. “Okay, that sounds good. Thanks, Great uncle Ford. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Until then, Dipper. Goodbye.”

As he made his way back to the basement laboratory, he was surprised to find Stanley sitting on the floor with Trevor on his lap. Next to them, the Swaven was leaning its head against Stan’s knees in an almost trustful manner. It was the most active Ford had seen the creature ever since the motel incident.

“About time you dragged your ass back over here”, Stan greeted him in his usual grumpy manner. “It’s been at least half an hour since you –“

“Stanley, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What? You mean these?” Stan held up an opened pack of animal crackers. “Feeding her, of course. A big fuzzy lady like this one needs a big deal of food, am I right? She won’t die from a couple of crackers, that’s for sure.”

“Well, we don’t know if it will”, Ford retorted, quickly growing angry. “This is a being under superdimensional influence. It needs no organic sustenance whatsoever, and there’s no way of knowing how it will interfere with its state of activity. I have never even thought of…” Suddenly his frown disappeared. “That’s it! Stanley, you’re a genius!”

“That’s a little in-your-face coming from you”, Stan said, a little taken aback by his brother’s sudden enthusiasm, “but sure, whatever. Why?”

“I have never thought of feeding it”, Ford explained, “since it seems to be lacking a digestive system. So far I have assumed it somehow consumes the weirdness energy concentrated in its body, but if it _does_ eat, it must have some kind of a way to transfer matter into energy in and of itself. That means the weirdness influence isn’t only external, but has instead integrated with its very being. This could be a breakthrough in my research!”

He knelt down beside Stan, who was scratching his head in confusion, and put his hands on his shoulders. “Thank you, Stanley. Although in rather unexpected ways, you have once again proved your peculiar insightfulness. I would truly be lost without you.”

“Okay, that’s enough”, Stan yelped, avoiding his gaze. “I appreciate the kind words and all, but you’re laying it on a little thick here, buddy. If you’re buttering me up to be your test subject for some freak experiment, it’s a no go.”

Ford laughed. “Don’t worry, I have no ulterior motive. But who knows – perhaps you’ll end up once again being the hero who saves the world while the rest of us are still only planning.”

“Enough, Ford”, Stan said, his voice sounding a little thicker than normal. “Put a lid on it already, will ya? Thanks, though. Now get this feathery missus off my knees so I can take the little one back to his mother.”

“Missus?” Ford repeated. “Why do you insist on labeling it female when there are no discernible signs of gender in its physiology?”

“Pffft. I have an instinct on these things, all right? I know a lady when I see one.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The fall arrived to Gravity Falls with a crash. In a matter of days, the weather turned too cold for Bill to spend all of his time awake perching on the totem pole. He seemed to quickly start preferring his indoor post on the old cuckoo clock, and being surrounded by the family in their spare time didn’t appear to bother him.

Ford made it quite clear to him to stay away from the business parts of the house during opening hours – and to his surprise, save for the usual verbal attitude, there was close to no rebellion against his order. He’d expected Bill to immediately seize the opportunity to appear to as many customers as possible and cause more unnecessary chaos in the house. Instead, he stayed in the living room, only moving from his pet spot for a cup of tea after meals.

Still, even getting him to talk was a small success in itself. In spite of his regular presence among them during the evenings, here wasn’t much interaction between him and the rest of the family: when spoken to, his replies were either jabs of biting sarcasm (to his credit, this only concerned the exchanges between him and Ford) or uncharacteristically curt, consisting of one or two words, if even that. The only exception to his social indifference seemed to be Trevor, towards whom he showed something of a thinly veiled curiosity.

Ford knew better than to let him approach the baby unless supervised by both the parents and himself; the demon’s calmness as well as the apparent lack of interest in rebelling worried him deeply.

And as it goes, Bill was bound to cause disorder, intentional or not.

The first snowfall came in late October, and it went on heavy for an entire day. Fortunately it was Sunday, so Soos didn’t have to worry about tourist buses getting stuck in snow in the yard. There was, however, plenty of shoveling to be done before the approaching week brought in the new tourist masses, and as the whole family moved outside, Bill, to Ford’s surprise, followed them on his own accord.

“You’re going to freeze like that”, he noted to the demon as he saw him floating by the porch, looking around the scenery covered with snow with a strange look in his eye. “You should put on the sweater Mabel gave you.”

“And _you_ should mind your own business”, Bill retorted. “I’m fine.”

Ford looked at him; he was already shivering a bit from the chill in the air. “No, you’re not. Come with me. I’ll help you put on the sweater, if that’s what is stopping you.”

“I don’t need your help”, Bill snarled, but followed him inside either way.

He was definitely acting too tame to Ford’s liking.

Once they were back – helping Bill with the sweater had been an experience Ford imagined dressing up a cranky kindergartener must be like, and it had taken a while – Ford picked up a shovel to join the others already at work. He glanced at Bill, who floated straight to the nearest pile of snow, grabbed a handful of it and stared at it curiously.

“That’s snow”, Ford said, perhaps unnecessarily. “Do you like it?”

Bill rolled his eye at him. “Yes, Stanford, thank you for your input. I know what snow is.”

“I figured out as much. But you probably haven’t experienced it first-hand before.”

Bill looked at the snow melting in his hand almost thoughtfully, then smirked. “Maybe not first-hand, Fordsy. Second-hand, now that’s a whole ‘nother story! Remember that one time I possessed you and lay face down in the snow for at least an –“

“Yes, I remember.” Ford sighed. After the incident, there had been so many frostbites all over his body that Fiddleford had insisted on taking him to the hospital. He was already a regular customer at that point; Bill’s gimmicks had resulted in him seeing a doctor at least once a month. “Well, now you can lie face down in the snow without having to borrow a human body for that purpose.”

“You know what? I think I will.” And with that, Bill flopped into the snow pile. “Whoo! Haha, I’ve missed this rush! Ooh, it’s already getting slushy around me!”

Ford couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Knock yourself out.”

Watching Bill flounder in the snow accompanied with a muffled laughter that, for once, was less unhinged and more like that of a frolicking child, it was easy to forget about the fact that this was the same being behind the atrocities of Weirdmageddon that had nearly cost his niece and nephew’s lives. The memory gnawed at the back of Ford’s mind for a moment, but he pushed it aside decisively. Perhaps now was a good time to simply live and let live without the burdens of the past dragging him down.

“Aww, look at him go”, Melody giggled as Ford made his way to the rest of the family digging up the driveway. “He’s making snow triangles.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning dawned on the Mystery Shack, and as expected, the shoveled pathway was filled to the brim with people. But they weren’t tourists.

“All right, dudes, is it someone’s birthday or something? I mean, it’s nice of you to come visit all together and all, but we’re not open just yet”, Soos muttered, still rubbing his eyes as he stood in the doorway facing at least a half of the population of Gravity Falls packed in the yard.

“As the mayor of this town, I demand to see Stanford Pines! The smart one!” commanded Tyler Cutebiker, who was standing in the lead of the mass of people, and shook his fists at him. “Go git ‘em! Now!”

“Okay, I’ll go, I’ll go! Easy there, Mr. Mayor”, Soos said and took a nervous step back from the man’s moustache wobbling with impatience. Some of the townspeople had even brought their pitchforks; whatever they’d come to the Shack for, Soos was now sure it wasn’t to wish someone a happy birthday.

Ford had barely time to get dressed before he was dragged down to face the furious masses.

“I wish everyone a good morning”, he said, smiling cautiously to cover his astonishment. “Now, let us all calm down and discuss whatever it is that you’re here for in a composed, civilized –“

“We demand an explanation!” Toby Determined shouted from the bustling crowd and stepped forward. “There’s been rumors of something nasty going on in the Mystery Shack all summer – something we all agreed to never talk about again in this town – and now we finally have evidence! Explain _these,_ Pines!”

The masses around him scattered so he could point to the nearest unshoveled pile of snow covered in several triangular imprints, or “triangle angels”, as Melody had called them. They even included a distinct shape of his hat, making them easily recognizable as the demon who had taken over the town and almost burned it to the ground four years ago.

“Oh, uh, I can explain those”, Soos put in behind Ford’s back, wringing his fez nervously in his hands. “You see, uh, we’ve been thinking of starting to sell nacho-shaped piñatas here in the Shack, you know, because, uh, nachos are totally our thing, right? We have a… sort of a… Tex-Mex theme going on here, right, dudes? And that’s… like, history stuff, and…”

“Soos, that is enough”, Ford stopped him. “I appreciate you trying to cover for me, but there is no need for that. They deserve to know the truth.” He took a deep breath. “At the beginning of this summer, I performed a resurrection spell on the petrified remains of Bill Cipher’s physical form. In other words, yes, I will confirm that Bill has returned to our realm.”

The crowd gasped in unison.

“Please, let me finish”, Ford continued, raising his hands calmingly. “I do not wish to elaborate on my reasons as to why I did it –“ he felt Bill’s stare on his back from the staircase, “– but the important thing is that the spell, in the form of transmaterial chains I control with my mind, has granted me a complete authority over him. In his current state, he is less of a threat to the town than any of Gravity Falls’ born and bred anomalies. I can assure you that everyone is safe as far as Bill is concerned.”

“You expect us to believe that?” protested a farmer from the crowd, flinging his pitchfork around and almost poking Lazy Susan in her good eye.

“Malarkey, I say!”

“Yeah! If yer sayin’ he’s harmless, ye better have some proof fer it, too!”

“All right”, Ford said firmly and turned around. “Bill. I need you to come here for a demonstration of the Blood Chains’ power.”

“Hah! No game, Stanford Pines”, Bill hissed back (another chorus of gasps could be heard from the masses as the sound of his voice). “I’m not going to degrade myself enough to be the lovely assistant for your little magic show, thank you very much.”

“Bill”, Ford repeated in a little more cautionary tone. “You know how this works. If you refuse to –“

“All right, move aside, folks, respect the elderly. What’s the fuss? You all here to gawk at the miscreation my brother keeps as his pet nowadays? Well, la-di-da. You guys got nothing else to do with your life than come lynch an old man at his front door at seven in the morning?”

Stan waded through the crowd from the guesthouse, stepped up to the porch and shoved Ford and Soos aside to take a rough grip at Bill’s ankle. A third simultaneous wave of gasps washed over the townspeople as he drew the screeching triangle hanging upside down in his grasp for everyone to see.

“There you go”, he grunted. “Everyone take a good hard look at this powerless little wimp. He can’t hurt a single fly, and he sure as hell can’t hurt you, your families, or your cows or whatever it is you’re so worried about. My brother’s got this, all right? You have my word on it, so let’s all pretend I’m a trustworthy person and leave it at that. Now everyone calm your tatas and go home to your… cows or whatever. I need breakfast. Yeesh.”

He let go of Bill, who didn’t have time to regain his balance before dropping face down on the snowy porch, and stomped inside the Shack, giving Ford an offhand pat on the shoulder as he passed him by.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sooner than anyone could’ve expected, the holiday season arrived and brought the twins from Piedmont to Gravity Falls.

With the fuss that came with the highest peak of the college application rush, the time they could spend in the Shack with their grunkles was shorter than usual, and Mabel was determined to make the most of it.

“Who knows when we can all spend Christmas together again”, she said woefully. She’d applied to three art schools and was about to go for two more after the holidays, and almost all of them were located at least two states away from Oregon. The rest of the family wasn’t too worried – they knew Mabel would break out of prison, steal a plane or blackmail a wizard into teleporting her to get to Gravity Falls for Christmas if needed be.

After a full and rather exhausting day of outdoor activities, Ford could finally invite Dipper to his basement laboratory to catch up and talk in private.

“Since Stanley’s accidental discovery, I have been feeding the Swaven a small amount of crackers once a week and scrutinizing what kind of an effect it has on it in the long run”, he explained as they eyed the resting anomaly through its cage. “I have noticed that its level of activity stays considerably higher for a round approximate of two days after food consumption. It also develops a temporary sleeping pattern of sorts, and generally behaves more like an organic being instead of a creature run by purely anomalous drives.”

“I see”, Dipper nodded. “So could it be that its body has both organic and anomalous functions, and it shifts from one to another depending on which one is stimulated?”

“Excellent thinking, Dipper. That is the hypothesis I’ve come to as well”, said Ford. “Perhaps the weirdness energy does just that – it stimulates the anomalous attributes a creature has on its own, and intensifies them to the point of manifesting as a monstrous form as well as mindless aggression. How and why this happens, we do not know yet. What exactly it was that caused the sudden transformation at the motel is still a complete mystery.”

Dipper patted the journal lying open on the table. “Either way, we’re finally making progress. And it’s all thanks to Grunkle Stan and a stroke of luck.”

Ford laughed. “One would think Stanley had learned the hard way to know better than meddle with my projects. This time, though, his carelessness was a blessing.”

“So, what about Bill? Have you decided on how to introduce him to the Swaven?”

“Well”, Ford said, leaning back in his chair, “technically they have already met, and… that is what creates a problem, in fact. Bill refuses to come anywhere near the laboratory, and I am fairly sure the strike of the Swaven’s beak left him cautious, even afraid of the creature. I do intend to create a setting in which they will have to interact, but it will take a little more planning. At the moment, there are too many variables that need to be stabilized in order to get data on causation instead of correlation. Leaving it until next summer, when you are here and we have more time to conduct our research properly, might be a good idea.”

“Right.” Dipper nodded attentively, writing down notes he would later include in his own journal. Ford smiled; in times like these, watching his grand nephew think, speak and act like a full-fledged researcher in his own right made a flame of pride blossom in his chest.

“Speaking of which… Tell me, Dipper, have you perhaps reconsidered your plans after high school?”

“Well, I did apply for a couple of colleges, but mostly just to get my parents off my back. Great uncle Ford, I’m going to take the apprenticeship... If the offer still stands.”

“It most certainly does”, Ford nodded. The confidence in Dipper’s eyes was a delight to see. “If you have any other ambitions to pursue, I do not wish to make you feel obliged to choose this post out of some sense of duty our relationship might force upon you. But I can see it in your eyes that you have made your choice.” He held out his hand. “It is an honor as well as a great responsibility for me to bear, and I intend to grant you the best guidance I can offer.”

Dipper reached out his own hand, then hesitated. “Well, uh… I do have… one condition.”

“Anything”, said Ford warmly. “What is it?”

The boy’s gaze wandered awkwardly across the table’s surface. “Never leave the door open again. Please.”

“Oh.” Ford cleared his throat. He should’ve seen this coming. “Right. I can, uhh, certainly agree on that condition. In fact, I… think there won’t be any real need for it, seeing how Bill and I… You see, we haven’t… Well, one could say that our situation has… changed. Perhaps it was a passing phase. In any case, you need not worry about being forced to witness something that… probably will not happen again.”

Dipper shifted his eyes back to his grand uncle. “Really?”

“Really”, Ford assured, and was relieved to see the tension in Dipper’s expression relax as he shook his hand at last.

“That’s good. Wow, that’s really good”, Dipper said, visibly relieved himself. “I knew you’d come to your senses, Great uncle Ford. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken”, Ford smiled, hoping the guilt he felt didn’t show on his face. Had he just… No, technically there was no lie in what he’d said. There had been no instances of physical intimacy between him and Bill ever since the incident Dipper had been unfortunate enough to witness. His feelings were still the same, that much he couldn’t deny, but… who was to say he would ever have to act on them again? Such moments seemed to always generate from an open conflict, and truthfully, Ford preferred peace. As long as they could live in relatively harmonious terms, he was more than fine with keeping distance. It was all right… wasn’t it?

Perhaps it was better to simply not think about it too much.

“Now”, he said, sensing a good opportunity to change the topic, “I apologize for bringing up high school business during your vacation, but did you find what you needed to know about this Sandra Goldberg person you mentioned some time ago?”

“Oh! …That. Yeah, it’s… Uh, I kind of gave up on it”, Dipper sighed. “It’s not important.”

“I tried to look her up on one of those Internet search engines with some help from Soos”, said Ford. After his return from the Multiverse, he’d never quite gotten in terms with the World Wide Web – as an old-school academic, he simply couldn’t bring himself to trust nor get his head around an all but limitless yet largely unsupervised encyclopedia of knowledge. “However, my research bore very little fruit. I did find some old articles from the seventies about a university student gone missing, but I doubt it’s something you couldn’t have found yourself. I’m sorry, but I’d need a little more to work on to be of actual help to you.”

“It’s okay, Great uncle Ford, I’m really grateful for your effort. But I think it’s too late already.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Did the assignment meet its deadline?”

“…yeah, something like that.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “You’re being very cryptic in regard to this issue. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, no, it’s nothing”, Dipper assured, but Ford could tell he was avoiding his gaze. “Like I said, it’s not important. Just a dead end, that’s all.”

“Are you sure this hasn’t got anything to do with your paranormal investigations?”

“Uhh, I wouldn’t say that, not really, no. Uhm...” Dipper glanced at the ceiling. “Did you hear a call for dinner? I think I just heard Melody shout ‘dinner!’, okay, wow, that was a bad impression of her, sorry.” He cringed with embarrassment. “Anyway, maybe we should head upstairs, what do you think?”

“Well, I did not hear the call, but I’ll take your word for it”, Ford smiled. “I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Let us continue this discussion later.”

As they ascended the stairs and headed to the kitchen, instead of dinner, they found Bill and Mabel arguing over Christmas traditions.

“No, you’ve got it all wrong! It’s ‘the season to be jolly’, it’s _supposed_ to be fun!”

“And I’m not saying it isn’t, Star Child! All I’m saying is it’s another of your kind’s mishmash of excuses to avoid the unavoidable! I’ve seen it all from the beginning, and trust me, beneath all that twinkling and jingling and giftwrapping goodness lies a history of mortal dread! Riddle me this: it’s the darkest time of the year, food storages are running out, the infants are crying with their little frosty toes shaking with cold! And what does your lot do? Spend the little resources they have left and throw a big old party to appease some nonexistent beardo in the sky! Hilarious _and_ a little sad, if you ask me!”

Mabel pouted. “Whatever! I’m going to have a fun-filled holiday with my family and friends and you can’t stop me. Hmph!”

“I have no such intention, pumpkin! In fact, I admire your ability to disregard the misery of others and have a good time in your own personal safe space!”

“Good!”

“ _Good!_ ”

After Mabel marched out and Ford followed her to make sure she was all right, Bill locked his bored-looking stare on Dipper before he could leave the room as well.

“So”, he said, stretching the ‘o’ in a sly manner, “how’s your little quest for the truth going?”

Dipper frowned and looked the other way. “What quest? Oh, that little puzzle you gave me at the end of the summer? Sorry, your bait didn’t catch. I don’t even remember the clues anymore, so I guess that’s about it, then.”

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

“…No. I said I didn’t…” But the short silence before his answer had already given him out.

Bill rolled his eye. “Yeah, sure, okay. Let’s pretend you had zero interest in what I’m about to say next. So you can just walk out of the room, right? After all, there’s no way you’d hang back to hear a potential breakthrough clue that, seeing how you ‘don’t care’, has no value nor meaning to you whatsoever?”

Dipper clenched his fists with an enraged look in his eyes. But he didn’t move an inch.

“ _Fifty-seven stitches._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After the holidays, Soos packed his wife and son in his car to head to Melody’s parents for the New Year, while the elder Pines twins received an invitation from Dipper and Mabel’s parents to visit Piedmont for a week. For obvious reasons, Ford had no choice but to decline the offer. Stan, however, immediately agreed to hop on the bus with the twins, not only to “have some goddamn time off from the yellow psycho floating around the house”, but also to talk to the parents about Dipper moving in to the Shack the following summer, which had been somewhat officially decided on Christmas Day.

It wasn’t until the bus had disappeared from his sight that Ford realized he was left in the Mystery Shack all alone with Bill for an entire week.

The first two days passed with the two minding their own business, barely talking to each other. On the third evening, when Ford was absent-mindedly going through his earlier journals in the living room, Bill finally spoke up.

“So how does it feel, Fordsy?”

“Hm?” Ford raised his eyes from the old book. “How does what feel?”

“Being left behind. Being trapped in this old hut because of me.”

Ford stared at him for a moment. Then he sighed and let his book down on the table. “Would you mind to accompany me for a walk?”

“Eh”, Bill shrugged and rose from atop the cuckoo clock. “Not like I have anything better to do. Or freedom of choice, for that matter.”

 _Nobody would’ve stopped you from just saying no_ , Ford thought sourly. “Good”, he said out loud. “And put on your sweater and mittens. It’s cold outside.”

“Sure, whatever.”

During the past months, Bill seemed to have gotten quite fond of his sweater; he’d learned to put it on by himself, and sometimes he even wore it indoors. Mabel had been exalted to see him wearing it on Christmas Day, and before anyone had known it, she’d complemented it with a tiny pair of yellow mittens.

The scrunching of snow beneath Ford’s boots was the only sound that could be heard as they walked into the dark forest in silence. It had been a long time since the last time he’d explored the woods during the winter, but he knew his way by heart.

Through the woods. Over the narrow, now frozen brook. Past the thickly growing shrubbery.

…And there it was. Or had been.

“Do you recall this place?” Ford asked the triangle floating beside him.

“Why would I?”

“This is where I collected your petrified form. It was covered in moss and fungi, half buried in ground.”

“So? It was just a stone. It’s not like my consciousness was in there too.”

“That is right. The stone was merely a remnant of the physical form you once had. But nevertheless, you were trapped in it.”

“Your point being?” Bill growled.

“Without me, you would still be caged in this very spot. There is no guarantee you would’ve ever regained even your incorporeal existence… had it not been for me.”

“Oh, right”, Bill scoffed. “So you’re the knight on a white horse who saved me from my stony prison and I should be pledging my allegiance to you on my knees, is that what you’re saying? Aren’t you forgetting a little something here? You’re the one who banished me in the first place, remember?”

“I did not bring you here to claim myself as your liberator. You are putting words in my mouth”, Ford said, frowning. “Who did what and why is irrelevant. Quite simply, the reason we’re here is to remind you of the state you were in less than a year ago. Your current position might not be ideal, but it is definitely an improvement. Or would you have preferred to stay dormant for centuries or even millennia, all alone, never to be found?”

“I’m more tempted to say _yes_ with every word that comes out of your arrogant mouth”, Bill lashed right back at him. “Like I said, I didn’t have a consciousness in there. It wouldn’t have mattered how long I was stuck out here, as long as I’d return eventually.”

“But what if you didn’t?”

The demon snorted. “Do you have any idea how many alternate timelines still has me biding my time? Even if it hadn’t happened in _this_ universe, it sure as hell can and _will_ happen in the next one. Who knows! I might already be out there, merrily taking over the three-dimensional realm for the second time. One can only hope that version of me won’t be hit with the idea to come and fetch _yours truly_ as well. And by one, I mean you!”

But Ford wasn’t going to give in an inch. “If such a paradox was to happen, it would’ve happened already. Your incorporeal form isn’t bound by time, remember? I’m sure he would’ve interfered _before_ you were turned to stone. But alas, in this particular universe, you haven’t been liberated by another version of yourself.” Then he realized something. “Is that… what you meant by being ‘left behind’?”

All of a sudden, Bill was quiet. “My legs are turning into icicles”, he muttered, avoiding Ford’s gaze. “You done? Because I’m out of here, whether you’re coming or not.”

Ford watched him as he started to float back towards the Shack. He could see that the triangle was, indeed, shivering from cold. “If you want, you can perch in the hood of my coat”, he suggested, and was surprised when Bill turned around and floated towards him. He hadn’t expected him to actually take the offer.

The demon’s surface, usually glowing with heat, felt strangely cold against the back of his neck as he made his way through the snowy forest and back to the warmth of the Mystery Shack.

It was almost worrying: Bill’s movements were sluggish, and violent shudders washed over him in waves even after they’d gotten inside. Ford hurried to make a fire in the fireplace and move a chair next to it. While Bill was warming himself up by the fire, he went to the kitchen to prepare a hot cup of tea (he hoped he’d used the right amount of jasmine blossoms) and carried it to the demon wrapped up in blankets.

“Is it any better?” he asked as he sat down in front of the chair, holding the teacup in his hands. “Here. I hope it is to your liking.”

“No”, Bill said curtly, gesturing him to let the cup down on the floor.

“Oh… You’re right, it is probably still too hot to drink.”

“No”, Bill said again. Ford blinked, confused; and suddenly there were two hands cupping the sides of his face, drawing it closer. “ _You_.”

 _The door_. He should lock the door.

…There was no one else in the house.

Still, perhaps… Just in case…

…

Bill’s surface had certainly gotten warmer. He could feel the familiar heat against his lips.

But now the small hands were pressing his head lower. He complied, his shaking fingers reaching to undo the bowtie.

…lower?

He hesitated.

The hands in his hair were getting impatient.

Cautiously, almost fearfully, he pushed his lips against the sharp edge, and realized it was no longer sharp. The demon’s entire frame bent and strained against him, and the voice, the hands, everything was telling him he was doing exactly what Bill wanted.

Did _he_ want this?

…He didn’t… not want this.

His heart racing, twelve fingers gripping the edges of the chair, he let the eager hands in his hair guide him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When all was said and done, the hands were still in his hair, but instead of a desperate grip, they were now caressing his curls with gentleness he never thought Bill was even capable of. There was a strange taste in his mouth as he rested his head on Bill’s lap. The tea had gone cold a long time ago, but he supposed there was no longer any real need for it.

He’d remained there for at least half an hour, and he didn’t want to get up. If only for a moment, he’d given up the control and let himself be driven by something entirely different. It felt… good. He hadn’t felt this peaceful since the first signs of the upcoming disaster had appeared in the horizon.

He wanted to stay in this strangely submissive position forever, forget about his responsibilities and the vague promise he’d made to Dipper that he now had utterly failed.

Eventually, the guilt that followed his wandering thoughts forced him to raise his head and face Bill. The demon seemed to be similarly at peace, eye half-lidded with languid satisfaction. His gaze followed him as he stood quietly up and directed his steps upstairs.

In his room, he picked one of the still empty journals he had waiting to be started, sat down and began to write.

> _It has come to my understanding that the newly formed corporeal body of now captured Bill Cipher has come with a peculiar side effect: a sexual drive. The clearest manifestations of his sexuality seem to follow either strong emotional responses, such as anger, or instances where he is exceptionally aware of his physicality, such as pain or shifting temperatures. My theory is this must be a consequence of his origins as a being of pure energy – if my assumption is right, said energy is set into motion by physical stimuli, and due to the limitations of the corporeal body, it manifests itself as a need for sexual release._
> 
> _Bill’s sexual drive appears to follow a somewhat humanoid pattern. It is stimulated by conventions that are social in nature, namely kissing, and his erogenous zones seem to largely coincide with those of humans. There seems to be a particularly sensitive area right in the middle of his base. When stimulated, it appears to slowly morph into a softer material and excrete some sort of translucent, lubricant substance. The taste is inexplicably sweet._

He leaned back in his chair and stared at what he’d written, heart pounding against his ribs with embarrassment. In spite of the great risk, he needed to write this down. It might prove itself useful information in the future. No proficient researcher would ever leave his observations unreported simply due to personal feelings of shame.

He closed the book with a deep sigh and started to look around for an adequate hiding place. There was no need for marking the cover with a number, no need for neatly composed prefaces.

No one but him would ever find or read this journal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the spring came growth. Trevor was already learning to babble, and for some reason, his first attempts of language seemed to be a source of great entertainment for Bill. Before anyone knew it, Bill had taken a habit of replying every _ba-ba-ba_ with a long, rambling answer as though they were having an intellectual conversation.

“Why, I agree! The local gremoblin population _could_ be harnessed for educational purposes! Nothing like looking your deepest fear dead in the eye while you still don’t have to worry about a mental meltdown affecting your social status! Better just face the madness sooner than later, am I right?”

“An alternate timeline in which the governments didn’t lie about the big bomb? Seen at least seventeen of them, and they’re just as entertaining! The lie is always somewhere, Chico! Remember that!”

“Well, what do you think happened to the first human clone experiments in the 1920’s? Discard and move on! Some things never change with your lot is all I’m saying!”

One of those evenings, Ford found Melody sitting alone by the kitchen table – crying.

“Melody!” He was by her side in an instant. “Are you all right? Is there something wrong with Trevor?”

“No”, she shook her head. “No, the boy’s all right. …A-at least for now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… Bill. He…”

“Bill?” Ford alerted immediately. “What about him? Has he done something? Is there –“

“No, he hasn’t done anything”, Melody said, her voice trembling. “That’s just it, he doesn’t _do_ anything, he just… The way he talks to Trevs. It’s pretty cute and all, but… The things he tells him about? Wars and nightmares and monsters and lying politics… I always laugh at his stories, they’re his thing and I think he’s funny, there’s nothing wrong with that as long as it’s just us adults listening, but it’s not…” She drew breath. “I don’t want him talking to my son about these things. I guess it’s okay while he’s still too small to understand anything, but what about when he grows up? I don’t want his first memories to be all these anecdotes about… doom and destruction and whatnot.”

Ford squeezed her hand comfortingly. He’d never seen this side of the ever-so-cheerful Ms. Mystery before. “I understand your concerns, and I most certainly agree. We need to set boundaries for Bill, and have a discussion on how he can act and talk around the baby. It’s –“

“Uh, Toots? A little help here!”

They were both startled as they heard Bill’s yelp echo from Soos and Melody’s bedroom. They dashed into the room and found Trevor going energetically on fours across the bed. Bill was sitting beside him and holding an awkward grip on the baby’s left foot, apparently trying to stop him from crawling over the bed’s edge.

“This kid needs to be put in a leash”, the triangle demon snarled. “I salute his resolve, but we’re literally on the verge of a Humpty Dumpty situation here.”

“Did you actually trust Bill Cipher with babysitting your infant child?” Ford whispered through the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Melody, but that is the most absurd, irresponsible…”

Melody wiped the last traces of tears from her cheeks. “Well”, she smiled a bit as she lifted the babbling baby to her arms, “he could’ve done a worse job, really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand [here](http://kindafooey.tumblr.com/post/156944338952/blood-chains-chapter-11-extra-scene-nsfw) is an additional NSFW scene for all you naughty children. Enjoy. :3


	13. Arc II | Entry No. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have [art](http://reddobastard.tumblr.com/post/159416778394/) this time around! Warning for _heavy_ spoilers, so I recommend to read the chapter first. But the art is EPIC, so be sure to check it out afterwards.

* * *

 

_Entry No. 13._

_It is time to study what crackers and time have done to the Swaven._

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was the night before the younger twins’ return to Gravity Falls. Ford was already getting ready for bed when he heard a knock on his door.

“Yes, come in.”

“Got a phone call for ya”, his brother said as he peeked in the room. “It’s from Mabel.”

“Mabel?” Ford repeated. “At this hour? I wonder what could be so important that it couldn’t wait until their arrival tomorrow.”

“’S what I said, but she insisted”, nodded Stanley. “Well, fill me in later, would ya? Unless it’s about rising another hellspawn back from the dead, because in that case I don’t even wanna know.”

Ford let out a stiff laughter. “It won’t come to that, do not worry.” He took Stan’s phone and raised it to his ear. He’d had his own phone for about two weeks before it had become clear that Stan’s thirty years of identity fraud had left its mark on phone company records as well, and he’d quickly had enough of getting calls from more or less shady creditors in the middle of the night. “Yes, Stanford Pines speaking.” He heard his brother snort on his way out of the room. “Mabel, is it? Good evening, or… night, to be precise.”

“Hey, Grunkle Ford”, he heard the familiar voice say in an unusually tame tone. “Sorry I’m calling so late, I just… needed to talk to you.”

“Is everything all right?” Ford asked immediately, and was responded with silence. “Mabel?”

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong”, Mabel blurted out. It sounded like she was holding back a sob. “I think I’ve made an awful mistake.”

“Are you okay? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“No”, the girl muttered. “But I think… Dipper might be.”

Ford felt an unpleasant lump in his throat. He could often see the young himself in Dipper, and that’s why he also feared his grand nephew was prone to making the same mistakes he’d done in the past. “What do you mean?”

“I… I’m not sure, I just…” Her voice broke, and Ford could practically hear the first tears falling down her face. “W-what if it’s me? What if he’s like this because I’m leaving him after the summer? Maybe we’ve been too close, a-and now he thinks he has to do everything by himself…”

“I’m sorry, Mabel, I can’t follow”, Ford said with a worried frown. “Are you saying there has been a change in Dipper’s behavior?”

“He’s acting so distant and unfriendly and weird and…” Suddenly words started to stumble out of Mabel’s mouth. “It’s like he’s shutting everyone out, even me. He barely comes out of his room anymore. I know he’s probably busy planning everything that comes with moving to Gravity Falls and he’s got every right to be cranky and jumpy and I get he’s nervous, but it’s… he’s so… _not_ Dipper. I can’t even explain it, I’m just… so scared of losing my only brother.”

Her voice faded into a miserable whimper at the end of her sentence, and she finally burst into open sobs.

“Are you worried about how he will manage here without you once the summer is over?” Ford asked gently.

“Yeah”, Mabel said in a quiet, shaky voice. “I’m scared this is just going to get worse and the next time I meet him, he’ll be this _person_ who isn’t my bro-bro. I don’t know what to do, Grunkle Ford. I want to go to the art school, of course I do, but… what if everything changes while I’m gone?”

“I understand why you might feel that way”, Ford consoled. “Change is a truly terrifying thing, all the more so in your age.” He cleared his throat. “Mabel, I want you to answer me in complete honesty. Do you think offering Dipper the apprenticeship in Gravity Falls was not a good idea on my part?”

“No! I… Maybe… I’m not blaming you, Grunkle Ford, I just…” Mabel sniffled quietly. “I don’t know, maybe it’s just a bad timing…”

“This change in Dipper you mentioned. Could it be just a more severe case of bad nerves?”

“No, there has to be something else”, the girl said. “It’s like there’s something he’s not telling me. I’ve tried everything from hugs to blackmail, but…”

“Have your parents taken notice of his strange behavior?”

“Yeah, but they just seem to think he’s hitting a late teenage phase or something. They’re urging even me to give him _more space_ , and that isn’t helping at all.”

“I understand.” Ford held a short, thoughtful pause. “All right, Mabel, here’s what I think we should do. Do you still feel comfortable coming here tomorrow despite the circumstances?”

“What? Of course! I’d never miss a summer with my grunkles just because my stupid twin is acting even more stupid than normal.”

Ford smiled. “I’m relieved to hear that. In that case, our plan of action is to let Dipper proceed with his apprenticeship and moving into the Shack, but keep a close watch on him at all times. I will talk to him directly once he has settled in. I suggest we also inform Stanley of the situation – he and the boy have their disagreements, but my brother also has a habit of getting the message through in the most unexpected ways. There is no reason to make the Ramirez worry at this point, although if his behavior is as odd as you described it, they will likely notice something is going on. And if it gets worse, we will prepare a family intervention and let Dipper know of our concern. At any rate, I am quite sure that we can handle whatever is troubling him together. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” Mabel sniffled once more, and then said again with a hint of a smile in her voice: “Yeah, you’re right, Grunkle Ford. Thanks. And sorry for turning it into a big deal. I just felt so lost after another day of Dip-Dop hardly talking to me. It’s… a bit scary.”

“Mabel, you know there is no time nor issue you cannot contact me for”, Ford said steadily. “I am glad you shared your worries with me. This way, we can carry them together, and prepare for whatever tomorrow holds for us.”

Mabel sounded a bit teary again. “You’re the best grunkle in the world. You and Grunkle Stan, I mean. I’m pretty sure it’s a tie.”

Ford laughed. “A tie works fine with me.”

“Nighty night, Grunkle Ford.”

“Good night, Mabel. See you tomorrow.”

As Ford ended the call, his eyes were met with a bored one-eyed stare from above the window sill. “Ugh, _finally_. Thought you’d never stop your little midnight gossiping. A demon needs his sleep, you know?”

 _No one would_ _’ve stopped you from leaving the room and sleeping elsewhere_ , Ford thought, but bit his tongue before the words left his mouth. The past months with Bill had been almost unbelievably short of conflict, and despite himself, Ford was willing to occasionally give in a little for this peace to continue.

So instead, he stretched out on his bed with a sigh; and as Bill floated above him and settled face down on his chest like he’d done every night for the past few weeks, he reached out on a whim to casually brush the demon’s smooth golden coating with his fingertips.

“Hands to yourself, Six. What part of _I need_ _sleep_ did you fail to understand?”

…All right, perhaps a bit too casually.

Ford let his hand drop to his side and lay still under the warm weight on his chest, quietly wondering if he was giving in a little _too_ much.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day the rest of the Pines family arrived to the Mystery Shack around the evening. The car of the twins’ parents was packed to the brim with Dipper’s personal belongings, and Ford and the Ramirez helped them carry the boxes upstairs (Stan was complaining about his back pains again).

There was one large box Dipper didn’t let anyone else lay a finger on.

“It’s personal. Really, _really_ personal”, he explained quickly he struggled with lifting the box from the car. “It’s, uh, boy stuff. No. Why did I say that? Forget I said that. Ugh, just... I have my reasons, so just let me carry this myself, okay? You guys can help with those boxes over there. I got this.” He flashed a nervous smile that quickly turned into a pained grimace as his arms were trapped under the box’s weight.

Ford glanced at Mabel, who answered his gaze with a sad frown.

“Dipper, I promise I won’t pry into its contents”, he said and raised his arms in a disarming manner. “You have my word, so please let me carry it with you.”

But Dipper persisted. “Thanks, Great uncle Ford, but I got this”, he repeated firmly and staggered towards the house. Ford threw another look at Mabel, who was biting her lip. Ford knew she was contemplating knocking over her brother and revealing the box’s contents by force, but when she caught Ford shaking his head, she sighed and let her shoulders drop in resignation.

“I know how you feel”, he told her in a low tone as they both picked up a significantly smaller package to carry to the house, “but disrespecting his privacy would be a rather bad move at this point. We need to regain his trust, not betray it. It is best that we give him the space he needs for now.”

Mabel pouted. “I’ve given him nothing but space lately”, she murmured. “He’s been staying up late in his room and doesn’t bother to come out to say good night, so I’ve left him little encouragement notes on his door. He just _ignores_ them, can you believe it? And last week he slept in on the graduation day and missed a half of the ceremony.”

“I… did not realize it was that serious”, Ford said with a frown, waited until Soos had left the car with another box and then asked: “How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know... The first time I noticed something was off was just before the holidays, when he hardly slept at all for a whole week and spent all his time on the internet. I thought it was just some nerd thing for his blog… It’s been getting worse and worse over the spring.”

“And your parents haven’t interfered with his changed sleeping patterns?”

“Nope”, Mabel said, annoyed. “His grades have been great, so they don’t think it’s anything to worry about. They think he’ll just talk to me if he has problems. They probably haven’t even noticed how distant we’ve become.”

Dipper avoided their gaze as they passed him by in the house.

“Grunkle Ford… What if he’s in trouble?” Mabel asked quietly as they reached the room that would be Dipper’s at the end of the summer. “He’s been spending so much time on the internet, and… I mean, his blog is pretty popular, and he does have a habit of sticking his nose in other people’s business… And it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have government agents at his heels or something. What if he found out something he shouldn’t have, and…” She bit her lip again.

Ford put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. If he _is_ in trouble, both Stanley and I know plenty of ways to eliminate any threat that should come his way.” He cleared his throat. “I am, of course, mainly referring to peaceful methods, but I will not hesitate to use more relentless means, either, should it ever come to that. We also have Soos and Melody, who have their own peculiar way of making problems solve themselves, as well as an access to Bill’s powers. I can say with a fair amount of confidence that Dipper is in the safest hands one can find.”

Mabel smiled a bit. “Still…”

“I know. I will talk to him soon enough.”

“Okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, Ford didn’t get a chance to confront Dipper until the next day, when Mr. and Ms. Pines had already left for Piedmont. The boy seemed to either stay locked up in his room – Mabel was staying in the spare room of the guesthouse until Dipper got his belongings in order – or spend his time around his parents, and Ford couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the family’s time together before they went their separate ways. On one hand, he was relieved to see Dipper banter with his parents like a normal teenager; on the other, he did feel that the teen was avoiding eye contact with him (and more or less everyone else). He must’ve noticed his grunkle’s vague attempts to have a talk with him in private.

“Dipper.”

The way Dipper startled when Ford addressed him confirmed his doubts.

“G-great uncle Ford!” he said and flashed an uncomfortable grin as his great uncle stepped in his room. “Hahaha, oh man, introducing Bill to my parents back there sure was something, huh? I can’t believe they bought Soos’ story about talking piñatas. If we really had those for sale, we’d be filthy rich, right?”

Ford answered his smile shortly. “We need to talk.”

“Oh… o-okay, sure.” The boy adjusted his cap, now visibly nervous. “Is, uh, something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same question”, Ford said with a sigh as he sat down next to Dipper. “I want you to be honest with me. Is everything all right with you?”

“Sure, of course! Never been better”, Dipper said instantly. His lack of hesitation made Ford frown slightly. “Why?”

 “I am worried about you, Dipper”, said Ford and put a hand on his grand nephew’s shoulder. “Surely you don’t think me oblivious enough to not have noticed there is something going on, do you? And I am not the only one with concerns.”

Dipper let out a frustrated sigh. “I should’ve guessed. Mabel’s been talking to you, hasn’t she? Really, I don’t know what to tell her to make her believe there’s nothing wrong with me, nothing at all. To be honest, maybe it’s _her_ you should be worried about. She’s the one moving away from everything she knows once the summer’s over, so I guess it’s kind of understandable that she’s freaking out and taking it out on everyone else, but this is just –“

“Dipper”, Ford cut him off, raising his voice slightly. “I need you to listen to me. Yes, you are right – Mabel was the one to first take notice of your strange behavior, seeing how she’s the one having been affected by it the longest. But it isn’t just her imagination or careless projection of her own feelings upon others. To me, the short time you’ve spent here has already confirmed her concerns valid. You have been evasive and distant, more so than mere teenage would excuse.”

“I’m okay”, Dipper muttered. “Really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I do not wish to bully you”, Ford said in a more gentle tone, “but your restlessness reminds me painfully of my own self when I had been betrayed by Bill. I simply want to make sure you are not in trouble.“

“Betrayed by Bill, huh? Well, look how that turned out”, Dipper said bitingly. Almost immediately his expression dropped, and he slapped his hands against his mouth. “I… I’m so sorry, Great uncle Ford, I didn’t mean to say it like that… H-haha, maybe there really is something wrong with me… I just meant…”

Ford smiled, looking almost as apologetic as his nephew. “I understand perfectly what you meant, and I must admit my defeat. I can see why you might not trust my advice after, well… how things have… developed between me and him. I know it doesn’t exactly speak well of my judgment.”

Dipper looked away. Ford sternly ignored the small hurting part of him that had expected an _it_ _’s not like that_ or _I do trust you_ and cleared his throat. “In any case, I do not want you to hesitate should there ever be anything you need to tell me. I have faced many a threat and danger in my time, and I am capable of protecting my family from harm as adeptly as myself. And it isn’t just me. The whole family is there for you, Dipper, should you ever run into trouble that appears insurmountable to you. You are never alone. I hope you remember that.”

Dipper gulped and squinted his eyes. Something seemed to be bothering him. “Bill”, he then jerked out. “He can’t be trusted, right? It’s all just lies and deceit, isn’t it?”

“Well”, Ford said slowly, “he most certainly cannot be trusted. However… There are certain rules to how he works. As an omniscient being bound by the laws of knowledge and truth, he, at least according to himself, cannot lie. He can only mislead, leave certain facts untold and use the relativity of knowledge for his own profit. Double meanings, loose ends… that is how he makes his deals. As I said, I do not trust him one bit, but I do believe he can be played by his own rules, so to say. Perhaps he cannot be controlled, but with appropriate precaution, he can be dealt with, and that is what I intend to do… until the end of my life.” He smiled bitterly.

Dipper gulped again, staring blankly forward. He didn’t appear any less uneasy than before Ford gave his answer.

“Is everything…”

“I need to go”, Dipper blurted, cutting short Ford’s inquiry. “Sorry, I… I just remembered there’s something I need to do right away.”

“Dipper”, Ford pressed on, but was interrupted again by a smile so strained it made his chest feel tight with alarm.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ll talk to you later, Great uncle Ford.”

And with that, Dipper hurried down the stairs and left his great uncle sitting alone in the twins’ room.

He stormed through the front door and headed for the totem pole, where Bill had taken his usual post.

“Tell me the truth”, Dipper spat out as soon as he reached the pole. “The whole truth. No more mind games.”

Bill opened his eye and crinkled it in amusement. “Newsflash, kid! There is no such thing as the truth. The truth is whatever your oppressors decide to enslave you with. The truth is a lie in and of itself, and the only way to escape it is to stop the wild goose chase, embrace the lie that _you_ make for yourself and call it the ultimate truth. The more you know, the less you want to know! Take it from someone who _knows_.” He winked. “But you’re already in too deep, arent’cha, Pine Tree? In that case, how about another clue to nudge you to the right direction?”

“No, no, _no!_ ” Dipper took a step back and clutched at his temples as if they were hurting. “Stop – messing with my head! Just tell me where you’re going with all this!”

“ _When you_ _’re stumped by a paradox_ ”, Bill recited slowly with a malicious gleam in his eye, “ _look out for the jugg_ –“

“ _Enough!_ ” Dipper’s shout echoed in the empty yard. “I don’t want any more of this! I’m done, okay? I’m so done listening to your dumb… riddles…” He fell quiet; it lasted for a long while. “ _The juggling fox_ ”, he then breathed out, staring at the ground beneath his feet. “Of course… But I already went through everything I could find about them. It’s a dead end.”

“Dig deeper, kid”, Bill hummed. “Always look for the lie.”

Dipper clenched his fists. He turned to face Bill.

“T… thanks… I guess”, he said in a cautious tone. He didn’t smile, but relief was visible in his expression and his eyes were ablaze.

Bill smirked as the boy hurried back to the house. “Any time, sapling… Any time.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Ford walked upstairs from the basement laboratory the following night, he was met with Soos hanging party decorations around the kitchen.

“Surprise, Mr. Ford!” he greeted happily. “Today’s the anniversary of Mr. Bill’s return, so we thought we’d celebrate a little. Look what Melody made!”

Ford turned to look at the food-filled dining table and raised an eyebrow. “Well… I suppose a triangular theme is fitting for the occasion.”

“That’s right, dog! Nachos, pizza slices, club sandwiches, watermelon, everything three-sided in honor of our triangle dude!”

“Hah, I like it”, Stan, who was already sitting by the table, commented with a grin. “Hey Cipher, take a good hard look on your corny cousin here, will ya?” He held up a nacho and made a show of crushing it in his hand. “Whoops, guess it grew a couple more angles, this one!”

Bill was sitting at his own table with a party hat on his top corner and a sour stare directed at Stan. “Close but no cigar, Fez”, he quipped. “Good luck trying to insult me by comparing my fine geometry to those asymmetric lumps. Apples and oranges, pal, doesn’t bother me one bit! In fact, seeing a geezer like you play with his food makes me wanna laugh! Of pity, that is!”

Stan grumbled. “We’ll see if you still feel like laughing after _this!_ ”

And in the same showy manner as before, he pulled out a box of donuts and slammed it on the table.

“And what’s that supposed to be?” Bill squinted at the man suspiciously.

Melody frowned with a small smile. “Stanley…”

“Yeah, okay, sorry for being that guy and breaking the theme you guys worked so hard for, but someone’s gotta wipe that smug look off the bastard’s face!” Stan defended himself and turned to Bill with a merciless grin. “Betcha didn’t like that, huh? It’s the guesthouse all over again! Remember all that stupid whining when he saw the square house right by the side of his so-called temple? Hah, what a baby! What’s the matter, pal, cat got your tongue?” he then asked, his confidence a couple of teeth narrower as Bill showed no sign of starting a hissy fit.

The demon gave Stan a dull stare, then snorted. “Oh boy! A little tip for the uneducated – if you’re going to roast someone based on their culture, at least have the decency to learn the basics of said culture, will ya?”

Stan’s arrogant smile was replaced by his usual frown. “I really don’t give a flying –“

“Look, _pal_ , comedy is a tough business, and if you can’t even tell the difference between a square and a holed circle –“

“Oh, for god’s sake, someone shut him up before I –“

“– the _former_ of which is a natural enemy of the triangular shape, whereas the _latter_ is –“

Stan cracked his knuckles loudly, but Ford shushed him while keeping his eyes on Bill. Aside from what little the demon had revealed to him in his penthouse suite almost five years ago, this was the first time he’d heard him talk of his origins or ‘culture’.

“– _literally_ a zero, the lowest of the low, the no-angle scum that I could squish under my heel and nobody would complain, so why the hell would I care if you…” Bill fell silent, let down his arms he’d been flailing wildly and frowned. “Anyway, the bottom line is…”

“No, Bill, please continue.” Ford adjusted his glasses and looked desperately around for something to make notes on. “I did visit one of the primary shape-dominated dimensions during my travels, but I never got the chance to record the nuances of the peculiar social order of the place. This would be a perfect opportunity to –”

“No.”

“What?”

“Don’t even dream of it, Brainiac”, Bill jerked out crankily. “As far as I’m concerned, none of what I just said is even true at this point. As you know, I took out some serious garbage in my own dimension, and all those other timelines are a whole ‘nother story. Just forget it.”

“I see… Regardless, even your subjective standpoint would be of great interest to me.”

“I said _forget it_. Fetch your test subjects somewhere else.” Bill grabbed his party hat and threw it across the table directly at Stan’s face. “This party’s a bore. Where’s my tea, Toots?”

Stan turned to Ford with an incredulous look on his face. “Really, Poindexter? You’re just gonna stand there and let him throw things at me? What happened to all that fancy chain magic or whatever?”

 “Stanley, it was just a party hat”, Ford said absently, still looking for a pencil and paper to write down the bits of information he’d learned from Bill. “I am not going to activate the chains because of some harmless act of childishness.”

“All right, that’s it. I’m out.” Crumpling the hat into a ball and throwing it haphazardly back at its original wearer, Stan got up and stomped out of the kitchen.

Soos held out his arms with an awkward smile. “So, uh… Nachos, amiright, party people? Anyone? Oh dudes, now I feel bad about this whole food thing. Is this, like, racism or something? Shapism?”

“You know we meant no offense, Bill”, Melody said cautiously as she placed Bill’s usual cup of tea on the table.

Bill shrugged. “None taken, darling. I’m just glad that old hack is out of my hair. Ugh, can’t _stand_ the guy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The pique between Stan and Bill continued for several days; their interaction shifted between sulking silence, haughty looks and scornful exchanges that Ford sometimes had to interfere in before they evolved into an actual scuffle, especially on his brother’s part. Bill behaved as though he couldn’t care less, but didn’t hesitate to spite the retired Mr. Mystery whenever an opportunity arose.

Dipper had effectively shut himself in his room, and Mabel, distressed by her twin’s elusive behavior, had started to avoid the Shack and spend all her time downtown with Candy and Grenda. Soos and Melody were busy with running the shop and looking after Trevor, who was bravely standing on his own feet now and learning to take his first steps around the house while babbling wildly. Ford asking Bill to mind his language around the baby in his delicate age seemed to be the last straw to the already moody demon, who quickly succumbed into yet another silent treatment directed at everyone except for Stan.

Ford decided it was time for a little experiment that would – hopefully – ease up the tense atmosphere in the house a little.

One afternoon he called Stanley to help him carry the Swaven’s cage outside.

Stanley seemed glad to help, and showed it in his usual snarky manner. “About time the girl got some fresh air. Can’t keep her in that dusty basement forever, can ya?”

Ford gave him a slant smile as they lifted the cage carefully over the doorstep. “I still cannot see how you’ve come to the conclusion that the Swaven is a female, but I won’t argue with you. But you are right – it has become slightly less passive over the past two months, and it is time we test its reactivity to the stimuli of the outside world.”

“Uh-huh. And how’re you gonna do that?”

“With baby steps, Stanley. We’ll see how the situation develops and take it from there.”

“Hm. Just make sure it won’t frazzle her or anything.”

Ford looked over the cage at his brother. “You really seem to care for the Swaven’s well-being”, he said curiously. “Why is that?”

He received a grunt for an answer. “Ain’t big on animal cruelty, ’s all.”

“Well, technically only a half of the creature’s essence is that of an animal”, Ford reminded as they placed the cage carefully down on the ground. Stan straightened up with a quiet groan. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just the usual.” Stan rubbed his back and looked at the Swaven with a strange look on his face. “Okay, bro, don’t laugh, but… Something about her reminds me of Ma.”

“Ma?” Ford didn’t laugh, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s… quite an unexpected association, but I think I can get behind it. It’s the neck, is it not?”

“Yeah… Something…”

Ford looked at Stan’s thoughtful, almost dazed expression. He opened his mouth to say something – he didn’t really know what – but was interrupted by Dipper, who came half running towards them from the house.

“Hey, Great uncle Ford… Sorry I’m late, I was, uh, kind of in the middle of stuff”, he said a bit out of breath. “We’re studying the Swaven? Great! So what’s the plan?”

“It’s good to have you here, Dipper. We’re about to conduct a small experiment”, Ford started explaining while still throwing glances at Stan, who seemed to have snapped out of his thoughts at the arrival of their great nephew and shook his head forcefully. “As you know, throughout the winter we have been feeding the Swaven small amounts of crackers once a week, and as a direct consequence we’ve noticed a slight increase in its state of alertness. Today, we determine if being fed on a regular basis has awakened a biological drive for obtaining food in its primarily anomalous system. Stanley, did you bring the crackers?”

“Uh, sure.” Stan patted his pocket. “Might’ve eaten a couple myself on my way here, but there’s still plenty for our girl.”

Ford nodded. “Can you take a position a few steps away from the cage? Dipper, get your notebook ready. I want you to stand between the cage and Stanley – right there, good – and scrutinize the Swaven’s every movement and action closely. This will be a useful learning experience in studying and taking notes on anomalous behavior. You will also serve as a potential distraction, which adds another useful factor for us to analyze. I will remain here, ready to open the cage should the Swaven show any signs of movement towards either of you.”

“Okay”, Dipper said in a slightly nervous tone. “I’m ready. Grunkle Stan?”

Stan blinked. “What? Oh, am I supposed to take out the crackers now? My brain spazzed from all that nerd talk. Fine, let’s get this over with.” He pulled a pack of animal crackers from his pocket and shook it at the Swaven lying passively in its cage. “You, uh, you want a treat? Want a yumyum? Sure you do! Get over here, Grunkle Stan’s got crackers for ya! …Okay, this is stupid”, he then said, his expression turning grumpy again as his actions seemed to have no discernible effect on the caged creature. “She’s not even looking at me.”

“Well, no wonder with _that_ performance – and you call yourself a showman? Hah!”

Stan let out another groan through his gritted teeth as Bill’s sneering voice suddenly reached his ears. The demon had left his spot on top of the totem pole and was now floating above them with his arms crossed in a somewhat condescending manner.

“Nobody asked your ugly face around”, he snarled. “Be a pal and take a hike, will ya?”

“Whoa, careful there, Pines!” Bill wagged a finger at him as provokingly as he possibly could. “Your brother here wasn’t too happy the last time I ‘took a hike’, was he? Wouldn’t want to upset Shooting Star like that for the second time, now would ya? Haha, right, he _promised_ that won’t happen again! A fleshbag promise, ladies and gentlemen – worth its weight in gold, am I right? But of course _you_ know all about that can of worms, don’t you, Fez?”

Stan bristled. “Ford, for god’s sake, make him shut up before I do it myself.”

“Oho, seems like I touched a nerve there!” Bill shone with glee. “Been to your mind, remember? Oh, I know all about the dirtiest little secrets you’ve never told another living soul! I’m sure young Pine Tree here would like to know all about just how much your word has been worth back in the day! Boy, that’s a story to tell for sure! But I bet the kid already knows the only thing that can be trusted in this world is a deal with good old Bill, cast in the fires of hell and one hundred percent guaranteed to hold true by the all-knowing powers themselves!”

“Stanford”, Stan muttered, his fists shaking with rage. “Do. Something. _Now_.”

Ford stepped forward. “Bill, if you’re only here to harass us, I will have you leave”, he commanded.

Bill folded his hands, feigning innocence. “Oh no, what I’m here for is to watch you play around with another captive of yours, which seems to be your favorite pastime these days! In fact, why don’t you start a zoo while you’re at it? Seems like a golden business deal for your lot! Imagine – you could boss around all day, Fez could go back to stealing people’s wallets which is obviously all he’s ever been good for, and Pine Tree could scribble as many _journals_ as his heart desired…”

While Stan completely lost his temper and started swinging his fists towards the sky (“You want some of this, huh? Bet you didn’t get enough five years ago, you little piece of –”), Ford’s eyes had shifted to the caged anomaly: it had turned its beady eyes towards Bill, and the entire length of its feathery body was trembling.

Of all the possible stimuli around it, the one Swaven would react to was…

Suddenly he had an idea. “Bill, I’m sorry about this.”

With a faint clatter, the Blood Chains materialized around Bill’s wrists and ankles for the first time in months. For a second, Bill just stared at them dumbfounded. Then his eye flashed red with rage. “ _Hey!_ What the hell, Six? What did I do? Talk? _Seriously?_ ”

Stan turned to Ford, still huffing with anger. “About goddamn time you –“’

“ _Shh_.” Ford hushed him with haste, eyes glued to the Swaven that was now twitching violently in its cage. And when its beak opened into a harrowing screech, his doubts were confirmed.

“Everyone, step back!” he shouted as the first signs of a monstrous transformation started to stretch the Swaven’s features grotesquely before their eyes.

“Whoa, what the hell?” Stan yelped and grabbed a hold of Dipper, dragging him away from the cage. He missed a step, and they both tripped and fell backwards.

But something was off.

Just before Stan’s head hit the ground, it… didn’t. Instead, both he and Dipper were left floating an inch above the ground. At the same time, Ford became aware of his feet slowly leaving the grass and his body lifting off in the air.

“ _What_ – _?!_ “

The Swaven’s cage was now afloat, just like everything else around them.

“Great uncle Ford!” Dipper screamed, holding on to his hat. “There’s no gravity – this is just like when the –“

“What’s going on?” they could hear Melody’s voice shouting by the front door. As they turned around, they could see Trevor worming in the air, laughing wildly as he floated away from his mother holding onto the doorcase by her feet. “No, _no_ – Trevs, come back right now! Trevor!”

“Don’t worry, honey, I got this!” Soos swam through the air and managed to grab his son by the ankle. “Gotcha, little guy! Hey, Mr. Ford, did you build another triangle space door? Because this is just like when you came back through the triangle space door!”

“The portal”, Ford breathed. “But this – it cannot _possibly_ –“

And then it happened.

A blinding white light flashed through the yard, and the sky above the totem pole cracked in half. Something… someone… stepped out of the wide chasm wiggling in the air like a slowed down lightning.

 “Dudes, am I seeing things? _T-there are two Mr. Fords?_ And… another Mr. Bill, too! What –“

“AAAAAHHH!”

Bill was the first to move after Soos’ shout. With a frenzied scream, he plummeted through the air reaching his hands desperately for the two figures, for _himself_ _–_

 _“BILL, NO!_ _”_

Ford’s arm flew forward, but no chains appeared – their connection was gone, he felt no power surging in him, nothing –

But just as he thought the worst was about to happen, Bill’s plunge was suddenly halted midair; chains – different chains, thinner and faint in their red glow – were binding him in place. Dipper had got back on his knees, and his arm was raised towards the struggling demon.

“Stay where you are, Bill”, he said, his voice shaking with strain. He gritted his teeth as the chains glitched visibly, but remained intact.

Bill screamed. He was still clawing his chained hands at his mirror image. “ _No! Fuse with me! Take me with you! Get me out of this dimension!_ ”

Ford – the _other_ Ford, standing in the chasm beside Bill’s oddly docile double, his deep crimson coat fluttering ominously around him – spoke with a cold echo in his voice.

“Another useless piece.”

His indifferent eyes drifted away from the demon as if he didn’t even exist.

“NO! _I_ _’M NOT USELESS!_ YOU’LL HAVE TWICE THE POWER, I SWEAR! PHYSICAL, PSYCHICAL, INTELLECTUAL, THE WHOLE SHEBANG! YOU’LL BE UNSTOPPABLE! _”_

“Seize it.”

The other Bill raised his hands obediently. The Swaven, now fully transformed into its monstrous form and struggling in its captivity, suddenly disappeared from its cage and reappeared by the rift, its whole body wrapped in magical restraints.

“NO, NO, _NO!_ ” the Bill in chains screeched, panic rising in his voice as the figures began turning away. “DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! _STANFORD_ _– FILBRICK_ _– PINES -_ ”

But his last words echoed at empty air. Everything afloat came down with a crash; and with the captured Swaven’s last shriek still reverberating through the yard, the chasm shrunk into nothingness before their eyes, leaving a sunny Sunday afternoon, five mouths open in shock and a child’s hearty laughter behind.


	14. Arc II | Entry No. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, we have a new chapter! I'm so sorry for the long wait - it's been a very busy few months, but now I think I can finally go back to giving this story the attention it deserves. -^^-
> 
> Also, we have a new member in our team! Meet hashtagromer, who will be my fellow idea bouncer and assisting story developer from now on. If you want to welcome him to the crew or just say hi, you can do that on his [Tumblr!](https://taghashromer.tumblr.com/)

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 14._

_This could well be the beginning of the end._

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

”We, we have to save her! Why did they –”

“Oh my gosh. Okay, calm down, man, stay cool. G-great uncle Ford? I – I have no idea what just –“

“Is everyone okay? Mr. Ford, was that really you? And –“

“In-gol! In-gol!”

“Shh, Trevs! The other ringol is gone, sweetie, and our ringol is very, very angry, so let’s not –“

Everyone was talking, yelling, running around, pointing to the sky, but it all turned into useless noise in Ford’s ears. All he could see was Bill still struggling against his new chains; his head was heavy with the echoes of his screams.

_Take me with you. Get me out of this dimension._

Anger, the kind he hadn’t felt since his darkest moments last summer, coursed through his numb body and made his fists tremble. _Get you out? How foolish. There_ _’s no one to take you away from me. Who would ever help you? You deserve this. You haven_ _’t changed one bit. After everything we_ _’ve gone through, you dare do this_ _… You dare try to escape me_ _…_

Helplessness sliced through his chest like a knife at the thought of what might’ve happened, and suddenly he couldn’t tell if he was angrier at himself or his captive. Because now his own naive hopes appeared painfully clear to him: he’d really thought Bill had changed, perhaps not for the better, but _changed_ nevertheless. The demon hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to run away for what felt like forever. He’d seemed to have yielded to his current state, and in certain regards even… succumbed to it… so much so that Ford had gradually forgotten about the resistance that had surely dwelled beneath the surface all this time. Yet obviously, _obviously_ , it had been nothing but a calculated act to edge Ford’s guard down, bit by bit, until a chance like this would appear, and he would leave him – no, get away. He would get away, go free… from Ford.

The man closed his eyes, wincing as though in pain. Himself… Yes, it was most definitely himself that he despised the most.

He snapped out of his haze of self-loathing at a pair of hands gripping his shoulders and eyes almost identical to his staring at him fiercely.

“I told you to _listen_ , Ford!” Stan shouted, shaking him. “Get her back! Right now! Are you even listening to me? _We have to get her back!_ ”

“Stanley – Stanley, calm down!“ Ford grabbed his brother by his wrists, alarmed by the sheer panic in his widened eyes. He had to think back for a moment to even recall who, or what, he was talking about. “Do… do you mean the Swaven? I understand your concern, but right now there are more pressing things at hand –“

“No, you _don_ _’t_ understand! You’re not listening! She –“

“Grunkle Stan? What’s wrong?”

Ford turned around to see Mabel running towards them from the driveway where Wendy had parked her car.

“Oh… Hey, Pumpkin”, Stan said, distress slowly easing into confusion as he let go of Ford’s shoulders and readied his arms for the lifesized hug that was speedily approaching him. “I, uh…”

“Mr. Pines?” Soos moved in, fiddling with his fez with a worried expression. “We’re all okay here, just so you know. Well, the weird bird is gone, but we’ll get it back, right, Mr. Ford?”

Stan raised his gaze again to meet Ford’s. The look in his eyes was a shocking reminder of the time Bill had left them locked in their cage and roamed after the children while screaming death threats. It was the look of a man who was about to lose everything he cared about.

Ford couldn’t understand.

He was not the only one; the whole family (except for Trevor, who was still pointing insistently towards the sky from Melody’s arms and saying “in-gol” over and over again) was slowly gathering around Stan, throwing concerned glances at each other. Mabel’s eyes traveled from one of her grunkle’s face to another.

“Grunkle Ford, what happened here? We were driving when everything went up in the air, and Wendy’s car got a punctured tire when it crashed back down and then we had to replace it with two gnomes to get here…” She glanced at Bill, who had finally stopped struggling and was now sitting on the ground trembling slightly, clutching at his top corner and staring ahead in an evident state of desperation. “Was it… him?”

Ford shook his head. “Not… quite, no. Well, technically you could say it was him... or me. It is very hard to explain, as I myself have very little idea as to what happened.”

Mabel let go of Stan and leaned keenly towards Ford. “Tell me everything. I can help you – I’ll have you know that Mabel Juice has scientifically proven IQ raising properties. If we can’t figure it out together, no one can.” She pointed meaningfully between Ford’s head and her own.

Dipper scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “While I still think Mabel Juice should be declared illegal, this time I wouldn’t mind some of that myself. Feels like my brain’s been mashed.” He stared at his own hands before shifting his eyes to Ford. “I need to know what happened as well. I mean, I was there when it happened, but…”

“No pressure, but if anyone here has an idea of what it might have been about, it’s probably you, Ford”, Melody put in, ignoring a very demanding _“in-gol_ _”_ and small hands grasping at her hair. “I think we all need to hear your theory on this.”

Ford smiled a bit. “Very well.” He nodded with a sigh and reached to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. The small start that met the touch of his fingers deepened his worry. There was so much that needed to be discussed, but right now, all he wanted to do was to make sure Stan was all right. “Perhaps we should all go inside and… Wait, do you hear that?” He turned to face the forest’s edge where an odd, distinctive rumble could be heard, growing louder by the second.

Wendy, who’d managed to untie the gnomes from her car and was now walking towards them with Candy and Grenda in tow, pointed at the direction Ford was peering at and frowned. “Hey guys! Some day, huh? Is it just me, or does it sound like the whole town’s tractor population is on its way to the Mystery Shack?”

She wasn’t wrong. As they watched, an army of tractors crawled through the woods and approached the family in a crescent formation. The clunky vehicles were followed by most of the townspeople, who were walking – no, marching – each holding a pitchfork pointing directly at Ford.

“Dr. Stanford Pines!” The entire family almost jumped in the air when Mayor Cutebiker’s voice called out Ford’s name through a loudspeaker from atop one of the tractors. “We, the people of Gravity Falls, have decided that enough is enough! Our town is in shambles! Our infrastructural long-term stability has been crushed! We will no longer tolerate any of your strange secret science experiments, and most of all, we won’t tolerate _him!_ ”

Pitchforks hurtled through the air to point at Bill instead. The demon raised his gaze to look at the sea of spiky farm tools just inches from his surface. “What the hell?” he grumbled. “This again?”

“He did this!” came a voice from the crowd. “He’s the one who traumatized my cows! My poor girls thought they were being abducted!”

“We want the triangle out of this town!” shouted another farmer, while others around him started chanting: “Triangle out! Triangle out! Triangle out!”

Ford stepped forward. “Please, everyone, I ask you to calm down. We’ve already been through this. Bill is powerless and under my control, and I assure you the collapse of gravity you recently experienced was not caused by him.”

“So that means it was _you_ after all!” Tyler shouted almost victoriously, and the pitchforks were instantly swung back up to threaten Ford. “This is the second time you’ve violated the town’s ‘Never Mind All That’ act, Doctor! Admit it, you’re the one behind all of the weirdness in this town! There’s always been something off about you, and we demand answers! Why do you have the same name as your brother? How did you suddenly appear in the Mystery Shack and act like you’ve always lived here? And those six fingers?” Agreeing murmur stirred through the crowd. “That just ain’t right!”

“Hey, hey, HEY!” Stan rushed from behind Ford to shoot a furious glare at the mayor. “Not another word of that, Cutebiker! I don’t care if you’re the mayor or the goddamn president of the United States, I’m not gonna stand here and let you insult my brother! Same goes for all of you dumb hicks! I’ll fight everyone, you hear?” He took a defiant boxing stance. “Anybody else got a problem with this nerd?”

Wendy stepped up as well, rolling up her sleeves. “I’m with you, Mr. P. Nobody messes with the Pines while I’m around.”

“We want to help, too”, Candy said in her usual cozy tone. She leaned towards Wendy to add in a whisper: “I always have my death ray with me.”

“I’LL PROTECT THE SILVER FOX UNTIL DEATH!” Grenda swore in her turn, banging her chest.

“Yeah, dudes!” Soos joined them with a beaming smile. “If you’re going to badmouth Mr. Ford, you have to get through me first! But before that you gotta get through Mr. Pines and the girls, and that’s going to take a while. In the meantime, the Mystery Shack will give you good deals for drinks and refreshments! Two cans for the price of three!” He leaned towards Stan to speak lowly in his ear. “How’s that for a business plan, Mr. Pines? We can start placing bets once the crowd’s warmed up.”

Stan patted his successor’s arm, evidently moved. “Soos, you really are the son I never had. You can probably forget about the bets, though. Somehow my fist fight with a pterodactyl has become common knowledge around these parts. Even the bikers tip their bandanas to me when I go downtown.”

Watching his brother act like his usual self again, Ford sighed quietly with relief. Despite the situation, deep gratitude for his family and friends washed over him in waves.

Stan’s words about his reputation rang true, seeing how hesitant the mayor and his backup crowd had become at his brassy challenge. “In, in any case”, Tyler stammered into the loudspeaker, stomping his boot against the tractor’s instrument panel to regain some of his authority, “we won’t stand for this, y’hear? We all saw the light coming from here, so you better start explaining yourself! What’s going on in the Mystery Shack? Well?”

“In-gol.”

The townspeople blinked in unison. Trevor was wiggling in his mother’s hold, reaching out his tiny hands. “In-gol!” he repeated very persistently.

Melody tried her best to hush him. “No, Trevs, ringol doesn’t want to play right now. Be a good boy, okay?”

“’Ringol’?” Toby Determined repeated, scratching his chin. “I know I’ve heard that somewhere… Ringol…”

“Oh yeah, that’s his way of saying ‘triangle’”, Soos explained with a proud smile. “It’s his first word! Heh, can’t blame him – if I’d had a floating triangle in my childhood home, you wouldn’t have heard the end of it!”

“RINGOL!” roared Manly Dan without a warning, scaring a flock of birds off the nearest tree. “The kid said RINGOL! That must mean THE TRIANGLE DID IT!” At his last words, he ripped his shirt in half for dramatic effect.

Wendy frowned. “Dad, come on”, she started, but didn’t get to finish before Bill was surrounded by pitchforks again.

“The truth is out, folks!” Tyler Cutebiker hollered into his megaphone. “Hand over the triangle, Stanford Pines!”

Sheriff and Deputy Durland and Durland stepped forward with the same little handcuffs they’d once used to lock up Gideon Gleeful. “Bill Cipher, you are under arrest for mysterious hurly-burly and giving everyone the heebie-jeebies for no particular reason”, the sheriff announced while his partner giggled beside him.

Bill raised a figurative eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“We are the authorities of this town, and whatever you say _will_ be used against you!” Sheriff Durland marched toward him purposefully, with the ridiculous pair of handcuffs held out like a threat.

“Get ‘im, hubby! Lock that evil triangle up!” Deputy Durland cheered.

“Just for you, sugarpie!” The sheriff glanced behind him, his serious tone briefly turning into a doting one before he redirected his attention back to the glaring one eyed demon. The mob of townsfolk advanced with him, empowered by his lead.

Bill’s sarcastic look quickly turned into a fed up frown. “You know what? Screw this, I’m done. I’m done with this, I’m done with you, I’m done with this whole dimension!” He floated up, but stopped when a pitchfork or two made a jab at him. “ _Hey!_ Watch it!” At the same time, the Blood Chains flared into existence around his wrists.

“You are not going anywhere, Bill”, Ford stated. It was oddly soothing to feel the control over Bill flowing through his mind again. “I won’t let you leave.” _I_ _’ll never let you leave_.

“Don’t worry, citizens, we won’t let him get away!” Deputy Durland promised. “He’s surrounded, there’s no escape!”

“No escape?” Stan yanked his thumb towards the completely unguarded space between them and the Shack. “He could literally just float back to the house.”

A series of snorts followed, but Ford didn’t laugh. The sudden turn of events had left him with an unpleasant premonition… or perhaps a recollection. “If I hand him over”, he said slowly, “what do you plan to do with him?”

“Dont’cha worry ‘bout that, Ford. Yer old friend is gon’ run it from there.”

Ford’s hunch was confirmed at the voice heard from behind the rumbling tractors. Heavy, metallic footsteps filled the yard, and the crowd dispersed to make way for a robotic velociraptor carrying Fiddleford McGucket on its back.

A heavy lump formed in Ford’s throat as their gazes met. Sadness and disappointment threw a shadow over the conviction in the old mechanic’s eyes.

“Ah’ told ya”, Fiddleford said quietly. “Told ya somethin’ would brew. You oughta listened to me, but you never do, do ya?”

His words stung, but they still sounded unfair to Ford’s ears. “You don’t know what happened”, he responded perhaps a little too bitingly. The memory of the turn their last conversation had taken was far from faded.

“Then why won’tcha tell us, Pines?” someone yelped from the crowd, receiving a murmur of approval.

“Yeah! What are we here for?”

“Good question, pardner. I need-a tend to my cows.”

“Let’s nab the triangle so we can all go home!”

Fiddleford remained quiet, but the rigid look in his eyes told Ford more than enough.

He let out a heavy sigh and raised his hands. “All right… If you so insist to know, I’ll have no choice but to tell you. I’ll spare you the obscure details and share with you my perception of the situation as it stands, and where it might lead to… But it might not be something you wish to hear.” He waited until the townspeople were quiet, then closed his eyes, fearing for the response to what he was about to say.

“Gravity Falls is in grave danger.”

He opened his eyes; he’d been expecting a dramatic gasp or some other kind of uproar, but instead everyone stood silent as a stone, face petrified with fear.

…of course. These people had already seen the end once in the past. They knew what was coming just from the few words he’d spoken.

“What’s worse, it isn’t just this town and its people”, he continued bleakly. “The whole world could be facing its greatest threat, one far beyond the perils of Weirdmageddon. The identity of this threat is yet to be fully recognized, but the warnings signs are all there, and we no longer have choice but to heed them. A great storm lies ahead of us, and as of yet, we have no means of stopping it.” He let his gaze move from one frightened face to another. “So I want all of you to prepare for the worst possible scenario.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” someone shrieked. “It’s that darn triangle!”

“The end times are comin’! It’s happenin’ again!”

“Git ‘em! Hurry up and GIT ‘EM!”

“No!” Ford yelped, stepping between Bill and the furious townspeople. “Such heedless actions won’t solve anything. I am quite certain there are some precautions we can take, and for that, I – we need Bill. We can use his powers to protect ourselves, perhaps even prevent this disaster from happening! I simply need to figure out how!” He was aware that Bill was now carefully listening to his every word, but right now, the townspeople getting more and more impatient and reckless were an even greater concern. “Please, you have to trust me! I am the only one with the knowledge and resources required to come up with a solution! All I need is time –“

“Y-you’re gonna need more than time, asshole!”

Amidst the heated discussion, no one had noticed the faint green glow from a swirling portal that had appeared just above the Shack’s porch; the yelling old scientist now walking towards them in leaps was more difficult to ignore.

“Sanchez?” Stan asked with a frown. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Came to grab your dumb brother by the nuts”, Rick growled as he walked by Stan and the others without even looking at them. Ford certainly wasn’t the most skittish person around, but he still nearly flinched when Rick approached him with his hand raised as though he was going to slap him. “Congrats, motherfucker! Your fuckups just went intergalactic! Real nicely done! Good job! Are you proud, a-are you fucking proud?”

“Hold on, who is this string bean? And where’d he come from?” Lazy Susan inquired, squinting her only good eye.

“Name’s Rick”, the scientist threw impatiently, “and I come from a place where people use more than half an inch of their brain. Now scram! Fuck off, all of you! Nothing to see here! And _you_ ”, he riled, turning to point at Ford, “we need to talk. Wanna do that before or after I kick your ass?”

“I –“ Ford frowned and shut his mouth that had been hanging open for a while. He had barely recovered from Rick’s unexpected arrival, much less his aggressive approach, but now the man’s open taunt was starting to irk him. “Rick, I don’t know what this is –“

“B-bullshit.”

“– but I would appreciate it if we settled this between the two of us”, he continued as Rick crossed his arms in an all but condescending manner. “There is no need to lecture me in front of…” he shot a quick glance at Bill, then gestured towards the crowd surrounding the yard, “… _everyone_.”

“Oh, so now you’re mortified by the attention? See, fame isn’t all fun and games when instead of saving the world, you just f-fuck everything up”, Rick bit back without mercy.

“No, he doesn’t!” Mabel put in sharply. “You better watch your mouth, mister!”

“That’s enough, Sanchez”, Stan started. “Ford is –“

But Rick just swished his hand at him. “I don’t give a shit about what he is! Jesus, don’t you guys understand simple English?” he turned to rage at the townspeople again. “Party’s over, the cops are here, time to go home! And what are _you_ looking at? Got a problem with me, dinosaur boy?”

Fiddleford stared at his past partner. “Ford, if this feller is yer idea of intimidation, it ain’t workin’ on me. Hand over the demon, and we can all go back to mindin’ our own business.”

“He-hey, _I_ _’m_ the one talking to you!” shouted Rick, who evidently didn’t like being ignored amidst his raging fit. “Don’t like me being here, huh? Well, there’s more of where that came from! Don’t fuck with me! I-if you stupid hillbillies won’t listen, I’ve got plenty of other ways to make my point!”

Sheriff Durland reached to grab the loudspeaker from Tyler Cutebiker, who was visibly intimidated by Rick’s antics and had left his tractor to cower behind Manly Dan’s back. “Mister Rick Somethin’, I’ll have you know that your ‘tude is too rad for this neck of the woods”, he announced through the megaphone. “I’m gonna have to ask you to stop diggin’ your pockets like that, it’s very unnerv-- whoa, whoa, whoa!” The townsfolk gasped at the sight of a peculiar gun Rick had pulled out. “Put down the sci-fi weapon, sir! I’m pretty sure that’s illegal!”

“A-anyone want a piece of this?” he hollered, swinging the gun around. “Back the fuck up, or I’ll turn all of you into a big puddle of ectoplasm! Don’t test me!”

“Hey, hey!” Stan shouted. “You’re not going axe crazy in the kids’ presence, you drunk bastard!”

Fiddleford’s eyes were blazing. “Ford, ah’m warnin’ ya!”

Ford took a hasty step towards Rick and opened his mouth to speak, but instead, he found himself with Trevor shoved in his arms.

“EVERYONE, SHUT UP!” Melody roared, her voice gaining a rasp that one might’ve expected from Grenda as she stepped up to face the crowd. She plucked the gun from Rick’s hand with ease, making it look like unarming scientists with a questionable level of sobriety was something she did every day. “And Rick, none of _this_ in front of my infant son! You’re smart, act like it! Same goes for you, Fiddleford! Pull your heads out of places I don’t care to mention, both of you! And you all –“ she flung her hand at the people of Gravity Falls, “– stop acting like a bunch of… Ford, Dipper, would you be so kind? Thanks”, she said as Ford and Dipper took the hint and covered Soos and Trevor’s ears. Then she continued storming like the interlude had never happened. “….like a bunch of _stupid peckerfuckers!_ ”

“’Peckerfuckers’?” Rick repeated, visibly impressed.

Melody shrugged. “It’s legal to marry woodpeckers here. Thought it’d be fitting.”

Rick threw a wild grin at Soos. “Jesús _, mi hermano_ , your wife is a genius.”

“Don’t know what she said, but I’ll take your word for it, dude!”

That did it; the volatile atmosphere eased up instantly after Ms. Mystery’s fierce intervention. The crowd shuffled uncomfortably away from the gun’s presence. “Now”, she said firmly, one hand on her hips while the other pointed the gun safely towards the ground. “You three –“ she nodded at Fiddleford, Rick and Ford in turns, “– need to cut the old man aggro and talk. Each of you seems to think they know something the others don’t. Well, _figure it out_. Ford, you still owe us an explanation, so we’re coming with you. And whatever it is you’re planning to do with Bill”, she threw a challenging look at Fiddleford, “he’s family, and we won’t let you take him away. We’re all in this together.”

An odd silence fell at her last words, during which Rick dug up a flask from his coat and took a long sip.

“Well, this blows”, he commented dryly after a loud burp. “Don’t know why I fucking bother with you guys.”

“Stanford”, Fiddleford said, shaking his head with disbelief, “what ‘ve ye done?”

Ford avoided his gaze; he was uncomfortably aware of everyone else’s slowly shifting to him. “Family?” he repeated with a short, forced laugh. “Melody, I am sure Bill appreciates the sentiment, however…”

“No, I don’t”, Bill scoffed. “Unless imprisonment and constant humiliation are the new defining qualities of a family. Oh wait – hah, you might be onto something here, Toots! Real talk though”, he added rather moodily, “leave me out of your sad little sentimental play-pretend, and I won’t replace Chico’s brain with rattlesnakes once I walk free from this farce.”

“Uh, Mr. Bill”, Soos put in cautiously, “this probably isn’t the best time for threats. Mel has a gun.”

“Yeah! I didn’t ask for your opinion, Bill. You’re family, whether you like it or not. Don’t mess with gun mom.” Melody tried to whirl the gun around her finger and let out a yelp as she almost dropped the weapon. Bill made a face.

“Gun mom? Sorry, bud, but I’m sticking with Momma Toots.”

“Well, it was worth a try.” Melody shrugged. “And to be fair, I’ll take my snake-brained baby any other day but today. We have much to discuss when this is over.” She turned to face the townspeople once again; one could see she was a respected member of the community, even more so with a gun, albeit a mishandled one, in her hand. “You heard what both Rick and Ford said. It’s time to go home. I know you all just heard some very scary things, but this witch hunt will get you nowhere. If I were you, I’d focus on sticking together instead of looking for someone to blame.”

“She is right”, Ford joined her, grateful for the attentive silence her speech had created. “It is the simple precautions we can all take that make the difference between loss and victory. Go back to your families and make sure they’re safe. Guard your homes. Look out for your friends. Above all, prepare yourselves for any sudden changes. Disasters arise from ignorance in the face of the unexpected. Let us not take that chance.”

He folded his arms behind his back, relieved to see the pitchforks slowly lowered one by one as he spoke. “In the meantime, Rick and I – and Fiddleford as well, if… if he is willing to work with us…” He glanced at his old friend, who didn’t answer his gaze; Fiddleford’s eyes were glued to Bill, who in turn stared back at him with an equally loathing look. Eventually the mechanic turned to face Ford, but the deep distrust in his eyes stayed.

“Ah’ll hear what ya’ll hafta say”, he said stiffly. “That’s all ah’ can promise.”

Ford nodded. “I understand. Now, Rick, Fiddleford and I will do everything in our power to stop whatever is coming. If anyone was to find a solution, I would bet my own life on the three of us. We’ve handled more interdimensional crises than perhaps anyone else on this planet.”

Had he happened to be facing Dipper, he might’ve caught a glimpse of the boy clenching his hands into fists.

“And in case you haven’t noticed, this guy’s all geared up”, Rick put in, lazily pointing at Ford. “He’s got guns, spells, illegal magic chains, you name it. If y-you think your tiny plastic cuffs have any actual use on the three-sided bitch aside from looking kinky, well, l-let me sit back and watch you try.”

“I’m going to ignore the vile remarks on our equipment as well as somethin’ around here being illegal”, said Sheriff Durland strictly.

“So are you gonna let them do this or what?” Stan asked with a shade of impatience in his voice.

“All right, all right”, Sheriff Durland said at last and sighed in resignation. “Citizens, the sieze is over. We gotta trust our good Doctor and do what he says. The triangle stays here. Now if you excuse us, me and my hubby are going to take our kick scooters downtown… while we still have the chance.”

Rick raised his arms towards the sky. “Urgh, f- _finally_. Thought this stupid scene would never end.”

After the townspeople and their army of tractors had disappeared into the woods, Ford looked at everyone left in the yard in turn. “I realize it is too late for me to apologize. Whether your involvement in whatever is about to come is forced upon you or by your own decision…” he looked at Wendy, Candy and Grenda, who had stayed by Mabel’s side even after the crowd had left. As he saw them reaching for each other’s hands as if in wordless agreement, he just nodded curtly. “…we all need to go over this together.”

“You bet your wrinkly ass we do”, Rick commented. “All right, league, g-get inside the Shack. Ugh, we’re gonna be packed like sardines in that tiny basement lab. Last thing I need is someone’s awkward claustro-boner poking at me.”

“Rick, please, mind the children…”

“What? Boners are a natural part of life, you gonna censor that too? T-they’ll find out –“

“Never mind.”

“So, Bill. Snakes for brains. How does that work?”

“Well, my dear Toots, I guess the only way to find out would be the old trusty method of trial and error!”

“Uh, dudes… I hate to be the buzzkill, but you’re making me worried about our son’s future. My homeboy Big Y was right… this sure is a ‘bad place for kids’. Heh, get it, Mr. Bill?”

“ _Don_ _’t remind me!_ ”

“In-gol!”

Ford walked quietly in the wake of everyone else heading to the Shack, not taking part in the casual buzz of conversation that filled the yard – the same yard that had crackled with transdimensional energy mere hours ago. It all felt too surreal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rick had been right; there was no room for Ford to pace around while he explained the situation, so he sufficed with tapping his fingers against his crossed arm. It made him appear more nervous than he was – or perhaps it revealed his true anxieties he refused to admit to himself.

“About two hours ago, something – or someone – tore up a portal in spacetime, an extremely dangerous venture that has only been attempted twice before in this timeline:  by me, young and foolish in Bill’s treacherous guidance… and thirty years later, by my brother, guided by nothing but his own wit.”

He looked Stan directly in his eyes, a surge of pride fighting down the slightest hint of jealousy at his brother’s achievements. Stan stared back at him with no discernible expression; he’d expected bafflement disguised as annoyance, or at least some form of sneer.

Ford frowned. Stan might be simply spacing out, but the empty look in his eyes was a painful reminder of his state after Bill’s defeat, and it filled him with worry and guilt. Had the Swaven’s abduction really affected him that much? And why?

Realizing that the others in the room were waiting for him to continue, he cleared his throat. “Now, there appears to be a certain pattern to these occurrences. I was the one who started them in the wake of Bill’s initiative. Stanley, although working on his own, used the materials and machinery I had left behind. And as those who were present when it happened saw with their own eyes, the one who stepped out of that portal… was me. Or rather, I assume, an alternate version of me from another dimension.” He turned to Rick. “Am I correct?”

“Eeyup. Right as a rich bitch Republican”, Rick confirmed. “B-but wait, there’s more. Turns out your double’s been hopping parallel dimensions for a while now. So far, his visits have turned three timelines to shit.”

“What?”

“Eeyup”, said Rick again. “Looks like he attacked his parallel selves. _Boom._ Blew up the whole thing. Left nothing behind. Looks like some Ford out there i-is doing a no mercy run on himself. Gee, I wonder what you’ve done to piss yourself off so badly? What might’ve driven you to this?” His glare bit into Ford’s eyes. “Anything – or anyone – come to mind, Fordsy?”

“Sweet Jiminy Cricket”, Fiddleford said quietly, squeezing his hat. “It’s ‘im, ah’ swear on my granny’s grave.”

“HAH! HAHAH! _I KNEW IT!_ ”

Bill’s triumphant shriek was even more piercing than usual in the packed room, startling everyone. “I told you it would come to this eventually! I told you!” he continued screaming, leaping above the crowd of heads to point his finger at Ford. “The tables have finally turned, Stanford Pines! Look who’s imprisoned now! Look whose turn it is to be humbled, humiliated, and forced to do someone else’s bidding, just like old times! You always did look your best on the receiving end of the puppet strings – ah, it’s almost nostalgic!” He swept an imaginary tear off the corner of his eye. “Excellent going, parallel me! Hats off to you, wherever you are! You lost the game, IQ, and _I_ _’m finally free!_ _HA, HAHA_ -”

“Then why are you still here?”

Bill’s laughter stopped like it had been cut through with a knife. “What?”

“If my double was controlled by the alternate version of you that we saw”, Ford said, his words slow in cold patience, “why did they not free you? Why did he obey the other Stanford’s command? Why was he in chains? Why are _you_ in chains?”

It didn’t take long before Bill’s victorious sneer was wiped out by fury that made his fists shake. “WHAT?” His eye started to turn red as Ford turned away from him. “HEY! I’m talking to you! _LOOK AT ME WHEN I_ _’M TALKING TO YOU, SIXER!_ ”

“No. I will not. And if you don’t remain silent while we speak, I will take you to the bunker.”

Melody reached to boldly grasp Bill’s leg. “Come here, mister”, she said soothingly. “Let them have their science talk. Let’s play with Chico instead, okay?”

To everyone’s surprise, Bill complied, but not until he’d thrown another enraged look at Ford.

With a barely audible sigh, Ford turned to Rick. “What I described just now is what truly happened after the portal materialized in the yard. It looked as though that version of Bill was completely under the other Stanford’s control. He ordered him to seize the Swaven – that is what we call the anomaly we’d captured and were in the middle of studying when this all happened – and the demon did what he was told. After that, they retreated with the captured creature and disappeared into the portal. There was no attempt of an attack, nor did anything indicate that this Stanford was being possessed or otherwise manipulated by Bill. In fact, it was quite the opposite.”

Rick gave him a nasty scowl for an answer. “And you expect me to be grateful for that? La-di-da, bitch. That does a solid nothing to the fact that three entire dimensions were snuffed out because of you and t-that little shit fucking around. Remember the first portal? The rift five years ago? It’s _always_ you two, for fuck’s sake. And if it really is you calling the shots this time…” He took another sip from his flask. “Then we have a serious problem, pal.”

Ford felt numb. Three dimensions. Countless lives, civilizations, galaxies… Because of him. Him and Bill.

“Blood Chains”, he muttered. “They, too, were bonded by Blood Chains.” That… couldn’t be. The spell was merely a precaution, a means of holding Bill in check. Not a tool for death-dealing servitude… _Not a weapon_.

“Guess every version of you is a big enough schmuck to resurrect schmuck number two here”, Rick quipped, and threw his hands up defensively when Ford opened his mouth to say something. “He-hey, don’t look at me! The spell isn’t exactly classified information. He could’ve gotten it anywhere.”

“How or from whom he got the information is irrelevant. We need to focus on the situation at hand”, Ford said wearily. “Tell me what I must do to fix this, and I will do it.”

“What, now you’re waiting for me to give you all the answers?” Rick flared up. “Jesus, you are one self-righteous son of a… Shit, I d-don’t have a solution, okay? I don’t even know why they came here, why this dimension is still in one piece, or why they took your fugly bird! Frankly, I don’t even give a fuck! The only reason I came here for was to kick your ass! Th-this is none of my goddamn business in the first –”

“You’re gonna bring her back, right?”

“What?” Rick turned to Stan and raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?” he said suspiciously.

Stan took a hasty step towards Rick. “Why do _you_ care why I care?” he almost shouted. “It doesn’t matter! None of this matters! Talking is just a waste of time! We need her back! _Poindexter!_ ”

Ford had feared the moment Stan would drag him into this as well. He was afraid of seeing the look in his face for a reason he couldn’t comprehend. “I… I also wish to know, Stanley”, he said, avoiding his brother’s eyes. “I understand that you’ve grown attached to the creature, but the urgency with which you demand its rescue… It feels rather disproportionate to the full situation.” He felt a sting in his chest and forced himself to raise his gaze to meet Stan’s. “I’m sorry. I do not mean to belittle your concern for the Swaven’s wellbeing.”

“Well, you are”, Stan answered. “Ya see, the thing is…” The angered distress in his eyes had once again faded, confusion taking its place. It was as if he was staring right through the room they were in. Everyone was watching him, unsure what to do.

“What is it, Stanley?”

As Ford approached him warily, he suddenly snapped out of his disoriented state and grabbed his shoulders, squeezing them so hard it hurt.

“Brother, I…” he stammered. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but… It was like seeing you get sucked into that damn portal all over again! And I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch! I don’t wanna lose anyone like that ever again, not you, not Ma, not the kids, not anyone! You hear me, Stanford? Nobody! Ugh, I’m not making any sense!”

Ford was taken aback by his words; it had never crossed his mind that in his brother’s eyes, the portal’s appearance and everything that followed might’ve been a painful reminder of past events. “No, you make a great deal of sense”, he hurried to say, reaching to put a comforting hand on Stan’s shoulder in turn. “I’m so sorry I could not connect the dots earlier. Now… I want you to tell me something. Various events this past year have reminded me that your instincts are far sharper than mine. I was never able to trust mine, so I will ask you instead. Is there something you have noticed about the Swaven? Anything at all that could explain the interest my other self appeared to hold in it?”

“I dunno”, Stan mumbled. “I mean, maybe there is. I think there might be, but I can’t point it out… I, I can’t remember.”

“Shit!” Everyone glanced at Rick; his flask was empty. “Ugh, great”, he muttered while turning it around and shaking the last few drops out. “Real f-fuckin’ fantastic.”

Ford could feel Stan’s fingers gripping shoulders again. “Look, Ford, I can’t tell you what it is, but… I have a feeling that she’s important somehow. That she’s supposed to be here! You probably think I’m crazy, but we have to go after her! Please, Stanford, you have to believe me!”

“Great uncle Ford, I think he’s serious”, Dipper said with a rather worried look in his eyes.

“Yeah, he even dropped the ‘P’ bomb”, Mabel said quietly. “He’s _super_ serious.”

Ford looked from the kids back to his brother. “I… I understand that”, he said. “And while I wish to heed your words, going after the Swaven and its capturers…”

“Might not have a choice there, buddy”, Rick put in, peering into his empty flask with a dissatisfied look. “You just said you’d do whatever it takes to fix this, right? Whatever they’re planning to do with the birdie, i-it can’t be anything good. Seeing how trigger-happy they’ve been so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if they needed it for, I dunno, some kind of a doomsday device? Beats me, but I wouldn’t take the chance if I was you.”

“I… I suppose you’re right”, Ford nodded hesitantly. “Regardless… It is an immensely dangerous task. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” He gulped and ran a hand through his hair. “First of all, it would require a pathway to the Multiverse – a portal of some kind – and I… well, you know very well just how perilous my earlier attempts at building one have been. And I have no means of tracking them, either. They could be anywhere. And – even if I somehow did get as far as finding them, how could I possibly confront my alternate self after what he’s done? It would be a suicide mission! Unless…” He turned to Rick, who immediately raised his hand without even looking at him.

“Nope”, he said dryly. “Nuh-uh. Not happening. I’m done with this bullshit. I told you, remember? If you fuck up, I’m out. Well, this is it. Y-you should all take a good look at my pretty face while you can, because this is just about the last you’ll see of me. When I walk out, it’s goodbye forever. ‘t was a mistake getting involved in this clusterfuck in the first place.” He shot a side glance at Bill, who was carefully held by Trevor like he was the toddler’s favorite toy; the demon seemed surprisingly okay with this kind of treatment. “So h-here’s a wild thought. This smartass has plenty of cards up the sleeves of his strait jacket, right? He could probably take you for an interdimensional ride.”

“Impossible”, Ford said straight away before the demon had time to spout whatever snarky response was on his tongue. “Bill will never agree to that.”

“Why not? Just threaten to snap the bastard’s arms in half again. That should do it!”

“Okay, pal, that joke stopped being funny on the day you were born”, Bill flared up. Then he suddenly, almost ominously so, regained his composure. “Sixer, on the other hand, is being too modest”, he said in a honeyed tone as he floated up from Trevor’s clutches. “You know I’m always open for a business proposal, don’tcha? I can take you places, sure Bob! But only if you give me something for return.”

“No. I do not wish to hear any of your demands”, Ford said, raising his voice. “I have already told you I will never –“

“I want you to cut the crap”, Bill continued over him, eye reddening dangerously, “and tell me what you really want from me. You told the hicks that you need me for something. That you have use for me. Doesn’t exactly ring true to what you told me last year, huh? Tell me, Six, what is it you’ve got planned for your good old pal?”

BAM. Ford slammed his fist against the table. “You, you, YOU!” he shouted. “ _Not everything is about you!_ Have you not listened a single word of our conversation? _I_ am the danger this town is facing, not you! I am the one this town needs, _not you!_ ”

He realized the volume of his voice had gotten out of control when he heard Trevor sniffling in Melody’s arms. “I apologize”, he said more calmly and looked directly in the eye of the demon who, despite trying to cover it, had jumped at his sudden fit of rage. “Bill. You said that every word we exchange is a deal. Where have all those deals gotten you? For once, I want you to face the facts. No matter what you do, in your current situation, there is nothing you can achieve from verbal agreements. “

“Oh, I’ve achieved plenty”, Bill muttered with a malicious smirk. “But I’m saving _that_ surprise for later.”

Ford frowned, but didn’t take the bait. “As long as you are bound by Blood Chains and your powers are in my hold, you cannot escape”, he continued like he hadn’t even heard the demon’s words. “Rick’s proposition that you take me to another dimension is not a choice, but a chance. I am not giving you options, but instead, an opportunity. For a limited amount of time, you will get some of your powers back. You will get to see the Multiverse first-hand, which, to my understanding, is something you have never experienced before.”

“Hah! I’m not going on a cheap tourist trip with you!” Bill barked. “What’s the point of dragging your angles all the way to the spot if all you can do is watch anyway? What could there possibly be in it for me?”

“Knowledge”, Ford answered curtly. “That is your currency, is it not? During the year of your captivity, you have fallen out of your game. This would be the perfect opportunity to restock on your resources. I know you are bored, Bill. Why decline a dearly needed source of entertainment?”

Bill rolled his eye dramatically. “Ugh, you humans and your misguided definitions of entertainment! _Where_ _’s the fun_ if you can’t even get your hands on it and wring it into a new shape?”

“In the past, you told me you were an omniscient being”, Ford pressed on. “The all-seeing eye. What I have never understood is why you are so drawn to destruction. Would the demise of reality as we know it not render your mode of operation pointless? Is there any meaning in becoming the richest of all beings when your wealth has no value, nor even a market?”

“Means and goals, IQ! _Means_ –“ Bill held his hands on his right side and then moved them to the left in a furious gesture, “– and _goals_! Are you really dense enough to not know the difference?”

“What I am saying is you should embrace those means for the time being, while your goals are and ultimately will be out of your reach. You are ambitious as well as conceited… just like myself”, Ford added rather darkly. “I am sure you can aim higher than the annihilation of all existence.”

Bill snorted. “I’m nothing like you, old man. Stop lecturing me!”

“Perhaps you need to reconsider your position. Right now, you are playing the part of a victim, choosing to act according to the rules I have stated. Be your own demon. Decide for yourself. Do not deny yourself freedom only because I am the one offering it to you.”

“I don’t deny myself anything”, Bill said slowly.

“Well, now is the time to prove it.”

Bill’s eye had a gleam in it that Ford hadn’t seen in quite a while. “I think I’ve already made it clear enough, Sixer.”

A silence fell.

“Aw-kward”, Wendy hummed out of the corner of her mouth.

“What are they talking about, bro-bro?” Mabel whispered to Dipper, who looked more and more uncomfortable by the second.

“H-how should I know?” he croaked back quietly. “I have no idea. Not one solitary clue. Nothing. None whatsoever.”

Ford turned to face the wall for a moment. He had no way to tell what kind of an expression he was wearing, and he was unwilling to let the others find out, either. Now he also realized that in the heat of their discussion, he’d driven himself into a corner. “It appears this is truly the only way”, he said heavily. “I will go after my other self and rescue the Swaven. Bill will accompany me on my journey through the Multiverse.”

As no protest came, Ford knew his attempt of persuasion had been a success.

Another silence followed; now that it was said out loud, the grimness of the situation settled in the room and pressed Ford’s chest painfully. It was all right, he told himself. With Bill’s powers in his use, his defenses were practically infallible… as long as he’d manage to keep Bill by his side, as much in harm’s way as himself. But what if the demon would refuse to go back? He’d offered him freedom, but there was nothing he could convince him with to make him willfully go back to being trapped in this dimension. The portal the other two had used would be their safest means of traveling back home – if they could reach it – but if something went wrong…

He… they… might never return.

“Great uncle Ford?”

Ford startled out of his thoughts. “Yes, Dipper?” he said without turning to the boy. Now, if ever, he didn’t want the emotions on his face to be seen.

“You know what this means, right? I’m coming with you. I have to.”

“What?” This time, he had to turn around to stare at his grand nephew. “No. I’m sorry, but that is absolutely unthinkable.”

“No, it’s the opposite”, Dipper said quietly. “You can’t go without me. You lost your control over Bill when the others appeared, right? Well, it looks like I’m the only one who can substitute for that. Not that I wouldn’t come either way”, he then added. “You know I’ve never wanted anything more than to see the Multiverse with my own eyes.”

It took Ford a long while to register what the boy had said. “Joined incantation”, he then said slowly, running a hand over his face. “A shared bloodline. Of course. That is why you were able to restrain Bill when I could not. I’d… I’d almost forgotten it happened.” He stared at his brother, who returned his gaze with an unreadable expression. _Please_ , he thought desperately in his mind _. Please tell him he cannot go. You love these kids more than anything. Give him something he has no chance of arguing against._

But Stan knew as well as he did that it was the only way.

He cursed silently in his mind. Why couldn’t he resolve the problem he had created on his own? _Why_ had he gotten the boy involved in the spell?

“I mean, this is a good thing, right?” Dipper spoke up again, evidently worried about his great uncle’s unenthusiastic reaction. “A happy accident! If it wasn’t for me, you’d have no chance of going after them with Bill in the first place. Right?”

Ford turned to look at Dipper. “It’s still too dangerous”, he tried. “It’s far too dangerous for someone as young as yourself.”

“Well, that settles it!” It was Mabel’s turn to speak. “Not many of you know this, but ‘danger’ happens to be my middle name. Mabel Danger Pines. And where there’s danger, there’s Mabel. I’m coming with you guys!”

“Mabel, no –“

“MY MIDDLE NAME IS ALBERTINA, BUT I WILL CHANGE IT TO DANGER IF THAT GETS ME TO SPACE!” Grenda announced.

“No, that isn’t –“

“Well, I have a death ray”, Candy joined in, “and that speaks for itself. I’m coming too.”

Ford was stupefied. He opened his mouth, but was once again interrupted, this time by Wendy. “Well, guess you can count me in as well”, she said, smiling lazily. “Gotta stick with my sisters, right? And it’s not like I got anything better to do.”

“You have a full-time job”, Dipper pointed out.

Wendy responded with a shrug. “Eh, it’s a family business. Dad can handle it. ‘Sides, I’d rather get out there and stop the apocalypse beforehand than stay here chopping wood until it hits.”

“Yes!” Mabel struck her fist in the air as though they’d already prevented the disaster ahead. “Sisterhood! Grunkle Ford and The Lovely Ladies are heading to space!”

“Uh, hello?” Dipper put in with a frown.

“Kids, please”, Ford started, grabbing Mabel by the shoulders. “Stop joking around. This will not be a fun adventure like the road trip we took last year. This is a serious, quite possibly life-threatening –“

“I don’t think they’re joking around, bro”, Stan interrupted. “These knuckleheads have already set their minds to it, I can tell. And they’re all grown up now. We fossils can’t stop them.”

“Yeah, dog”, said Soos. “In fact, I think it’s a good idea. You and Mr. Bill all alone in the Multi-whatnow? I’m sorry, dude, but it wouldn’t work out. You’d be constantly at each other’s throats. This whole Mr. Bill situation would’ve ended badly real soon if the rest of us weren’t there to calm you down. I call it my angelic charm, heh. Anyway, the more, the merrier! And safer, when you’re on the road. Especially if there’s bandits in space. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure there is.”

“I… I simply cannot agree with this”, Ford tried, but with much less strength this time. Both Stanley and Soos were right. Having traveling companies on his side would make the journey much safer, and dealing with Bill less stressful and risky.

Without a warning, an object flew towards his head from Rick’s direction; again, he was thankful for his sharp reflexes as he caught it in his hand before it hit him. “Rick, what is this?” he asked, studying the small item that resembled a pocket watch, but was clearly filled to the brim with odd scientific intricacies.

“Well, w-what does it look like, nerd? You never seen an interdimensional compass before? Happened to have a spare one on me. I don’t need it.”

“You’re giving this to me?” Ford asked unsurely. “After what you said earlier, I didn’t quite expect you to –“

“Don’t want it, don’t take it”, Rick gruffed. “I don’t give a shit.”

“No, I…” Ford swallowed the rest of his confusion and nodded. “Thank you, Rick, it will be greatly useful. With this device, we can locate the dimension from which the two intruders originate. They might not currently be there, but that is where we will begin.”

“Yeah! I bet there will be tons of clues lying around”, Mabel added and threw a playful look at his brother. “Mystery twins in space?”

Dipper rolled his eyes with a smile. “All right, all right… Mystery twins in space.”

As Ford looked at the twins and their friends standing together without a hint of fear, he finally felt his opposition starting to fade. “Very well”, he said with a sigh. “If you are so insistent on wanting to accompany me on this journey, I will allow it. However”, he continued over the cheering, “I want you to prepare yourselves. There is no way to tell what awaits us.”

“Peachy.” Rick stood up from his slouched position against the wall. “Okay, good luck with that, I guess. I’m bailing.”

Stan cleared his throat. “So, uh… Rick. Sounds like I won’t be seeing your ugly mug around, huh?”

“Nope, n-not a chance”, said Rick indifferently without raising his eyes from the empty flask he was studying.

Ford glanced between the two of them. He knew Rick and Stanley’s friendship was as deep and strange as one between two equally grumpy and foulmouthed old men could ever be, and it saddened him to see the scientist give his brother a cold shoulder as his last deed before leaving. He wanted to tell him to get his act straight, but Rick was in an exceptionally bad mood, and he didn’t want to risk losing the little assistance they’d gotten from him.

He reached out his hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

But even that was not enough to get Rick’s attention. “Ugh, can it, Sixer”, he said, swishing his hand dismissively. “Can’t say it’s been a pleasure. Okay, here’s the deal. Puzzle this out, and we never have to meet again. If we ever do, I’ll shoot you in the fucking head.” He took out his portal gun and pulled the trigger unceremoniously. Trevor let out a joyful laugh at the sight of the glowing green portal that appeared on the wall.

It seemed as though Rick was fed up with everything; he didn’t as much as raise a hand as he stepped into the portal, not looking back once.

“F-fucking losers”, was all they could hear before the portal shrunk away.

As soon as he was gone, Ford felt an odd kind of emptiness settle in his chest. He no longer had anyone with the same level of intelligence to rely on… Whatever the future was to hold, he was on his own.

But now there was a hand in a cast on his shoulder that was about to prove him wrong.

“Well, ah’m glad he’s gone”, sighed Fiddleford, rolling his eyes. “Somethin’ odd ‘bout that ol’ feller. Gave me a feel in m’bones, like he ain’t one of us, git?” Then, an amiable pat followed. “Chin up, Stanford, time to get plannin’. Got a long way ahead o’ ye.”

“Fiddleford, you…” Ford’s eyes widened at the warm smile his friend was giving him. “So you’re not…”

“Not now”, said Fiddleford, “not today. Everythin’ in good time… But fer now, ah’m with y’all. I can see yer doing all ya can, what kind of a friend would ah’ be to throw a spanner in yer works now? B’sides… I got somethin’ ah think ya’ll find mighty helpful.”

“T… thank you. You don’t know how reassuring it is to have you by my side once more.” He drew a deep breath. “Well, then… I will have to see if my interdimensional traveling gear is still in working condition. I never thought I would have to put them on ever again… I suppose I have kept them stored for a reason I wasn’t aware of at the time.”

“Yeah, we got some serious packing to do as well”, Wendy said, giving Mabel a pat on the back. “So tell me, is it like hiking? What do you even need for a trip to another dimension?”

“I have a list!” Dipper said immediately. “Carefully crafted and in great detail. I’ve been planning a trip to the Multiverse since Great uncle Ford’s return – uh, just in case, of course. Anyway, I’ve got everything figured out to a tee. Follow my lead.”

“Way to go, Dippin’ Dot!” Mabel whooped. “I knew those stupid lists of yours would save the day one day!”

“In that case, stop calling them stupid.”

Wendy chuckled. “No offense, dude, but they are pretty stupid.”

“Did I just save everyone hours of trouble or not?”

For a brief moment, Ford’s eyes met with Mabel’s, who subtly pointed at her twin brother and gave her great uncle a beaming thumbs up. Ford nodded, feeling a bit of relief at the usual nervous enthusiasm on Dipper’s face. Whatever had been weighing him down when they’d arrived to Gravity Falls… perhaps this expedition was exactly what the boy needed for now.

As Wendy passed by Ford, she chucked an elbow chummily at his side. “By the way, that verbal smackdown you did back there to get Bill on board? _Nice_.”

Despite all his worries, Ford managed a small smile. “Well, I suppose I have learned from the best.”

“What, you mean our homely flimflam man Mr. P? …Oh”, she lipped as Ford’s eyes drifted to Bill. “Well, karma’s a bitch. Shape guy got a taste of his own medicine. Keepin’ it real, Doc.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good lord, this is – Fiddleford, for how long have you been in possession of this? I was certain it only existed in the Paradox Dimension!”

“Back when Cipher took over this here dimension, those darn paradox mattahs was scattered all ‘round the place. When ah’ was runnin’ ‘round town lookin’ fer cover, my left knee started shakin’ all a’sudden. That wretch’d old thing can tell when there’s radioactivity ‘bout, git? So on spur o’ the moment, I collected it and hid it in m’ beard – it’s radiation-proofed, ya see.” Fiddleford handed Ford a small, pitch-black box. “I call it –“

“NowUSeeItNowUDontium”, Ford filled him in, studying the box in his hand with widened eyes. “It is the same element your parallel self helped me power my quantum destabilizer with. Fiddleford, this is a most excellent discovery. With a power source such as this in your hands, you could devise entirely new machinery beyond imagination.”

Fiddleford shook his head with a smile. “Naw… I got no such use fer it. Stanford, ah’ want y’all to have it. Put it in that big gun o’yers and take it with. Truth be told, ah’ don’t reckon relyin’ on Cipher’s powers on all counts is a good idea. Ya hafta prepare for the worst.”

“I…” Ford had a bad feeling about what Fiddleford’s idea of the worst was, but wiser from their previous year’s argument, he kept it to himself. “Thank you, Fiddleford. This is an invaluable asset, and I promise to use it well.”

“Ya better”, Fiddleford smiled; there was a hint of sadness in it. “Be careful out there, Stanford. Be mighty careful.”

“I will.” Ford put the element in his pocket and put his hands on Fiddleford’s shoulders. “Our enemy is another version of myself. This means whatever his intent and course of thought should be within the reach of my own understanding.” His heart clenched with fear at his own words; in reality, he didn’t _want_ to understand. “Perhaps no open conflict will be needed. If things go well, we may be able to conciliate.”

“No, not him”, Fiddleford shook his head again, staring at Ford with frightful, serious eyes. “ _Him_. The other Stanford got a Cipher fer himself. But somethin’ went terribly wrong wi’ that, ah’ reckon. Don’t make the same mistake, my friend. Be mighty careful.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

In his room, Ford unpacked and thoroughly inspected every piece his old traveling gear he’d packed away almost five years ago. His mind was muddled with conflicting emotions. He couldn’t deny the inkling of thrill coursing through his veins at being allowed to witness the wonders of the Multiverse once more; but at the same time the thought of having to face his deranged self, who had mercilessly and deliberately destroyed countless and countless lives for an unfathomable reason, had him stricken with terror.

Throughout the evening, amidst the twins running around the house in their makeshift gear imitating that of Ford’s as closely as possible, Stan could be found in his chair, keeping exceptionally quiet. Ford suspected he was feeling guilty over making a fuss about rescuing the Swaven, effectively urging the children to join this dangerous expedition.

And when Stan finally opened his mouth with a troubled look in his eyes, Ford just shook his head gently and put a hand on his shoulder.

“This was inevitable”, he said. “If you wish to blame someone, blame me. The situation has arisen from my mistakes, and I will be the one to solve it. Do not worry, I will keep the children safe at all costs.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about”, Stan muttered. “They can hold their own. But what if _you_ don’t come back? You’re trying to hide it, but I can see you’re happy to go back to your space adventures. You’re bored in this house, just like you said that pointy psycho is. Who would even wanna come back to this dumb hick town when you can just explore the stars or whatever? Sheesh.”

“No, Stanley.” Ford looked his brother deep in the eyes. “Gravity Falls is my home, and I will return. I promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything was ready by midnight.

They were back in the basement laboratory, and Ford had opened the door to the room where the portal used to be. He had locked it years ago with the intention of never opening it again. Now, it seemed like the most appropriate place to leave for their journey.

The quantum destabilizer hung heavy on his back as he walked from one youngster to another, checking their gear and adjusting their goggles (Mabel had attached cat whiskers to hers, which was unneeded, but not necessarily harmful). Once he finished his final checkup, he drew a long breath of dusty air through his nose.

The day had taken a surreal turn from very early on, but this… This was beyond surreal.

“All right. It is time.”

“Drive safe”, Melody wished with an unsure smile.

“Yeah, dogs! Go kick some clone butt!” said Soos much more confidently. “That’s what they were, right? Clones? No? Yeah, think I might’ve gotten that part wrong.”

Stan was quiet; he looked like he was holding something back. But as no words came, Ford just gave him a firm nod, and received a slightly weaker one for an answer.

“We will be back soon”, he said. _Hopefully_. He turned to Bill; Fiddleford had connected the interdimensional compass to the demon’s tracking device, so he could only teleport them to the dimension they were heading. “Are you ready?”

Bill huffed and looked the other way, which Ford had no choice but to take as a yes.

He closed his eyes and let the otherworldly power flow from himself back to Bill.

Bill’s eye flashed instantly open and twisted into a maniacal grin. “WHOO!” he yelped. “Long time no me! Oh, what a rush! Okay, my little flesh puppets, let’s get this show on the road to dimensions and beyond!”

“Ford!”

Just when the ethereal light Bill was emitting expanded and took hold of the travelers, Ford could hear his brother calling his name. He turned around to see the anxiety in Stan’s eyes just before the light swirled around him and sucked him into a realm beyond this one.

“Ford, he… was looking at me.” The echo of Stan’s words chased him to the void, eventually drowning under Bill’s exalted shrieking.

“He was looking straight at me.”


	15. Arc II | Entry No. 15

* * *

 

 

 _Entry No. 15._  
  
_'Stay together.' This was to be our only guidance as we set out on this journey._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

” _Who?_ Who was looking at you? What are you talking about? _Stanley!_ ”

Ford’s startled voice reverberated like an echoless echo around the travelers bound together by Bill’s light. He knew he was the only one who heard it; there was nothing to carry the sound over the raw forms of energy and shifting superphysical matter their surroundings consisted of.

Uncertainty and ill premonitions ran through Ford one after another as his last remaining senses were choked by the limbo. He’d only ever traveled between dimensions alone. What if something went wrong? What if Bill, in a spiteful act of rebellion, suddenly decided the break the bond keeping them together? What if this had all been an elaborate plan to make Ford unwittingly put the kids in danger?

He was vividly reminded of Fiddleford’s words of warning. He had been right – nothing in the Multiverse could be a greater danger than Bill. How had he not realized the perils of this mission before they left?

More than any other moment since they were bonded by the Blood Chains, this could provide the perfect opportunity for Bill to blackmail him into ultimate submission. Ford squeezed his eyes shut despite not being able to see anything. This was the most vulnerable he’d felt since his brother’s self-sacrifice five years ago. The only thing around him that could reach his awareness was Bill’s presence, his wild joy of freedom; and strangely enough, he clung onto it as much as he feared it, praying it would keep the demon distracted enough to not realize how close he was to having him cornered.

He felt a piercing pressure in his ears and sighed with relief. This was it. He would feel the pull of gravity again any second now – soon, his feet would hit a solid surface – he envisioned a mental compass to keep himself upright and prepared for landing…

He frowned. Strange. The feeling of velocity in his cells was definitely coming to a halt, but there was still no –

“OH, COME ON! _NOT THIS AGAIN!_ _”_

… _What?_

Ford’s eyes went wide with shock as soon as he opened them and saw the sickening swirl of colors all around them in a boundless, distorted void. This was not supposed to happen. This was not their destination.

This was, without a doubt, the Nightmare Realm.

“So this is the space? Cool!” Wendy was the first to speak. “Though to be honest, since you told me to wear trekking boots, it’s not exactly what I expected.”

Candy took out her clamshell phone and snapped a picture of her psychedelic surroundings. “I like it.”

“I FEEL LIKE I’M FLYING!” Grenda announced, flapping her arms like a bird and floating slightly above the others.

Bill was furious. “Explain, IQ!” he shrieked. “You told me we were going places! To actual dimensions! NOT BACK HERE! I’ve seen enough of this dimensional trash dump for one eternity, thank you very much!”

 “This… This is absurd!” Ford exclaimed and turned to the triangle with a motion that weightlessness made more aggressive than he’d intended. “Bill, did you do something? Did you interfere with the navigation? Answer me this instant!”

“Well, DUH!” Bill screamed right back at him, flailing his arms to gesture all around them. “I would if I could, no question there! I’ve got much funkier stops for this train in mind! But I can’t, thanks to _you!_ And even if I did, do you really think I’d swing myself right back to this decaying hellhole where I was trapped for one trillion years? Newsflash, genius! I’m done with this place, even more so than your sad little home planet, so _get_ _– me_ _– out! NOW!_ ”

 “Be quiet!” Ford snapped. “I need to think.” There was no way to pace around, so instead he ran his hand through his hair nervously over and over again. “There must be something wrong with the compass. It was supposed to take us to the home dimension of my other self! We need to figure out an explanation for this so we can –“

“Grunkle Ford?” Mabel, who had swum through the empty space to take a grip on Ford’s arm, interrupted him quietly. “Dipper’s being weird again.”

Ford turned around to see the boy floating a little further from the rest of the group, facing the other way. It took him a second to realize he was muttering to himself, voice low as a whisper. “No, no, no. Not here. This isn’t happening. No, no, no, no…”

“Hey, Dipper?” Wendy asked, following Ford’s gaze. “Dude, what’s wrong? You get space sickness or something?”

Dipper gave a violent start at the sound of being spoken to. He turned swiftly around and looked slowly from one worried face to another. He was pale, his expression strained, and droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead, unmoving in the lack of gravity.

“Dipper?”

“Great uncle Ford”, he said, his voice shaking and dark. There was something in his eyes that wasn’t just fear or panic. “I need to ask you something.”

Ford nodded. “Of course –“

“Uh, guys? Sorry, but I think that’s gonna have to wait.” Wendy pointed at something in the distance. “Doc, prep your guns. We’ve got company.”

“ _BOSS?_ ”

“Oh, _crap!_ ” Bill piped and wiggled his feet in a state of panic at the loud call cracking through the multicolored emptiness and a distant figure starting to swiftly approach them. “Well, what are you waiting for? _Move it_ , you useless meat babies! We need to olly the hell out of Dodge before that stupid dweeb –“

“Boss, is that really you? Holy guacamole, it _is_ you!”

“Bill”, Ford said slowly, “is that –“

“Shut up and let me handle this!” Bill hissed and floated forth, visibly nervous. “Hee-ey, Kryptos, old bud!” he nasalized with a cheery tone so forced it seemed to distort his entire frame. “Long time no Bill, huh? Look at you, all square-y as usual! That’s my friend Kryptos! Hey, who taught you to pronounce guacamole right?”

“Zanthar did”, said the former member of his gang. For a moment, his silly smile was replaced by an offended look. “He said you guys taught me the wrong way on purpose.”

“Who, me? Oh, no, I would never! Wasn’t my idea, cross my heart that I don’t really have!” Bill crossed his hands in mockery of innocence. “You know old Bill, I’m the epitome of honesty! I’d look at Teeth if I were you! That guy lies through his, well, you know how it goes from there!”

Kryptos still seemed a bit crusty, but settled for a shrug. “Okay, whatever.”

“Haha, that’s right, I’d never pull your leg, you old chap, buddy, you”, Bill piled on. “I mean, why would I? We’re practically family! You were always like a son to me!”

“I’m the same age as you”, Kryptos pointed out.

“Oh, right! Gotcha, buddy. Friend. Pal.”

A somewhat awkward silence followed.

“So!” Bill started again, fiddling his fingers nervously. “What got you floating around the void?”

“Oh, you know, just chillin’, killin’”, said Kryptos nonchalantly before pointing at the triangle with an excited grin. “But what about _you_ , Boss? We thought you were, I dunno, dead or something!”

“What, me?” Bill let out a high-strung laughter. “Same as you, my friend, my guy! Looking around, checking out the hoods, just being good old Bill, your pal, remember that? Us being pals?”

Kryptos frowned. “You’re weird, Boss.” His expression lit up. “Wait, is that it? You’re here to get weird again? Are we gonna invade another dimension? Aw, yes! Finally!”

“No –“

“HEY, GUYS! LOOK WHO’S BACK! TIME TO GET TURNT! I mean, that’s what you call it, right?” he added hopefully. “Getting turnt?”

“Kryptos, you damn idiot!” Bill lashed out in panic. “Don’t call them here!”

Ford had a bad feeling about what was coming, and decided it was time to interfere. He reached to grab Bill’s arm. “Bill, it’s too late! Let’s get out of here before this gets out of hand!”

“Wait…” Kryptos squinted at him, scratching his upper corner. “Why are you hanging out with a bunch of… what are they called, hoo-mans?”

“What, you didn’t notice them until now?” Bill threw back angrily. “You know what, screw this! I’ll just leave, let’s pretend this –“

“BILLY!”

Bill rolled his eye. “Oh, _god_ , no.”

In a swirl of flames, a bright pink demoness appeared next to Kryptos, followed soon by two other creatures jumping seemingly out of nowhere: a humongous monster resembling a loaf of bread with limbs and a smaller, incomprehensible cluster of colorful shapes with multiple eyes.

“Oh, hey”, Bill said feebly, “there’s another two of my… good friends!”

“It’s him!” the flagrantly pink humanoid spoke with a thick lisp, wearing the widest grin her face could possibly manage. “It’s my Billy!”

Ford bit his lip. For some reason, the monsters seemed to be completely oblivious of his and the kids’ presence unless they spoke out or otherwise drew their attention. Perhaps they might be able to escape while their focus was on Bill…  But how would they retrieve the demon from his former gang’s claws?

Behind his back, he warily gestured for the kids to stay put and ready themselves. It looked like there was nothing they could do but be quiet and watch the situation unfold for now.

Bill shrugged in a rather helpless manner. “That’s me”, he confirmed with a smirk, or a desperate attempt of one. “Your Billy! A trusty friend! Always been there for ya, always will!”

“What are you talking about? You haven’t been here for ages!” Pyronica snickered and spread her arms. “Come here, auntie Ronnie wants a hug!”

“You’re younger than him, Py”, Kryptos pointed out again.

“Shut up, Kryptos! Stop acting smart, because you ain’t”, Pyronica bit back offhandedly. “Billy, a hug! Now!”

“I appreciate the sentiment”, Bill muttered, “but I’d really rather not.”

“Why not? …Oh!” Pyronica then uttered with another wild giggle. “I get it! You’re _tiny!_ ”

A roar of laughter followed her words: the other monsters were enormous compared to Bill. The triangle frowned. “Yeah, thanks for your input”, he snarled. “I know. I’m tiny. Ha ha.”

“Come on, Boss, size up! Let’s go haunt mortal dreams and wreck this place, like old times!”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

“So hey! What’s new in the Nightmare Realm?” Bill shrieked, making a show with his arms and drowning the excited murmur under his voice. “What’s the name of the game? Who’s running this place these days?”

“Uh…” Pyronica glanced at Zanthar, who shrugged his giant shoulders. “I think it was the thing with like a hundred faces the last time we checked?”

“Eighty-eight faces”, Kryptos put in once more, getting his top corner punched by Zanthar in response. “Ow! Okay, okay!”

“Honestly, coups happen so often no one bothers to keep up anymore”, Pyronica explained. “Total chaos! Just the way you like it, right, Billy?”

“H-hah, you got that right, sister! The multi-face guy, huh?” Bill hollered, his eye flickering rapidly from one monster to another. “Good for him, or her! Them? Hell, I never figured that out!” He floated back an inch or two. “So, uhh, listen, pals, I’ve got some errands to run –“

“Hey, you should come meet the rest of the old gang!” Kryptos beamed. “We’ll throw a comeback rave and get totally crazy! So ditch those hoo-mans and come with us, it’s gonna be a blast! A blow out!”

“MORTALS!” Pyronica screeched, pointing at Ford and the kids she’d apparently just noticed floating behind Bill. “Aww, Billy! You brought us snacks from the physical plane!”

“What?” Bill turned rapidly around to glance at Ford before facing the monsters again. “H… HAH! That’s right, my friends! Snacks! Finger food! Uh, tasty souvenirs! Delivered and served by none other than your old pal Bill!”

“Sweet! You caught them all by yourself?” Pyronica said with an admiring tone.

“Er…”

“He did not ‘catch’ us, nor did he deliver us here to be devoured by you!” Ford yelled, impatience flooding over his earlier caution. “We are not being held captive by him – _he_ _’s_ my captive, under my complete command!” The Blood Chains lit up around Bill’s wrists to prove his words.

“No, no, _no!_ Don’t listen to him!” Bill screamed, struggling against the chains. The monsters exchanged looks.

“Hey Boss, _why_ are you tiny?” Kryptos then asked, accompanied by a garbled sound from Amorphous Shape that Ford could oddly enough recognize as suspicious.

Pyronica put her hands on her hips and curled her lip. “I’m not getting that hug, am I?” she asked with a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“He called me an idiot earlier.”

“No hug, no souvenirs, no _nothing_.”

“I know, right? It’s like he thinks he can just waltz in here.”

“Yeah, I mean, this is our territory, right? Shouldn’t we, like, charge for entry or something?”

Kryptos chuckled. “If you say so, Ron-Ron! You’re the boss!”

“Wait, wait”, Bill put in, starting to look worried. “ _I_ _’m_ the boss, right? Tell him, Ronnie!”

Pyronica gave him a dull look. “No, Billy, you’re not. You’re _tiny_. You know what happens to tiny folks in the Nightmare Realm?”

Bill’s hands shot up defensively. “Okay, okay! You’re the boss! Throne, crown, scepter, the whole deal, all yours! Sheesh! But we’re still buddies, right? Come on, guys! It’s me, your old pal Bill! We’re friends! Pals! Partners in crime, thick as thieves!”

“Hmm…” Pyronica pretended to think before letting out a brash laughter. “Nah, you’re just a tiny crumb! You know what, we should totally take you to the thing with all those faces! I mean, you’re not _wanted_ or anything since everyone thought you were dead, but I’m sure we’ll get some kind of a reward out of you!”

“Seriously? _You_ _’re selling me out?_ ” Bill flared up. “After everything I did for you guys! I can’t believe this! Fine, keep your gang and your stupid territory! I’m out! Let’s go, Fordsy!”

“NUH-UH!” Pyronica shrieked and leaped up, preparing to attack. “FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS, BILLY!”

Bill tried to rush out of her way, but the Blood Chains were holding him still. He grabbed the rim of his hat in panic. “No, NO, NO –“

“ _RRAAAAHHHH!_ ”

Earsplitting noise filled the empty space; just as Pyronica’s frog-like tongue whipped out to wrap around the travelers, Wendy barged at her with full force and a mighty roar, cutting the tongue in half with the chainsaw she was wielding.

“Hey! Hhah’s ho-h hice!” Pyronica wailed, reaching her hands to grab what was left of her tongue fallen limp after Wendy’s attack.

Mabel squealed out in admiration. “Lumbergirl!”

“Whew, that was surprisingly clean. For a moment I thought this was gonna be like one of those old school splatters”, Wendy contemplated and kicked the tongue’s cut off tip away from her. “Ew, monster body parts.”

“This isn’t the physical realm, so everything is merely an imitation”, Ford started explaining, but soon realized there was no time. “We need to escape! Everyone, gather around Bill!”

“GEFFEM, MORFO! ZANFAF!” Pyronica yelled, her words muffled by the cut tongue she was trying to stuff back into her mouth. While Ford flung the quantum destabilizer from his shoulder, Amorphous Shape grew in size; its squares folded and split in half, spreading around the travelers like a strange multicolored barrier.

“Quick! Aim for the eyes! Attack at my command!” Ford shouted over his shoulder while taking aim at the huge, loafy creature reaching its gorilla-like arms towards them. Candy nodded with her laser gun readied in her hand. Wendy yanked the chainsaw back in action, Mabel was armed with her grappling hook and Dipper with the height-altering flashlight, and Grenda simply cracked her knuckles.

Pyronica was too busy struggling with her tongue and stomping emptiness with rage; Kryptos was the first to catch on the travelers’ readied stances. “Uh, Boss? I think they’re –“

“NOW!”

 _BOOM_. The space around them seemed to shake as four weapons were fired simultaneously, and Grenda’s howl competed with that of Wendy’s chainsaw as they both sprang towards the nearest glaring eyes.

“GRENDA SMASH!” she yelled as she sunk both of her fists into the eye lie a hammer. A smell of something burning filled the humans’ noses when Candy’s laser left nothing but a smoking hole in its target’s place. Dipper’s crystal-powered flashlight diminished one eye into a useless speck, while Mabel plucked out another with her grappling hook with a nasty ‘ _squelch_ ’ that made Bill wince with an unpleasant memory.

“Boosh!” Wendy exclaimed victoriously as she retreated back to her companions. “Nice work, dudes!”

With all of its five eyes blinded and one of its squares sawed in half, Amorphous Shape let out a strange, polyphonic screech and coiled back into its earlier size.

“Oh, snap!” Kryptos exclaimed rather blandly as he looked between the curled up shape cluster and the spot where Zanthar had been seconds before being completely evaporated by the quantum destabilizer. “Py? This could be bad!”

 _“Don_ _’t call me Py, you idiot!_ _”_ Pyronica screamed, her tongue still lolling around uselessly; at least they could now make out her words. _“Don_ _’t let them get away!_ _”_

“Bill!” Ford shouted while waving the others closer and strapping the destabilizer back onto his shoulders. “You need to take us to safety!”

For once, Bill didn’t respond with snark. “Sure thing, Brains! But you gotta give me some directions here! If any place in this hellpit is safe, that would be because I don’t know about it!”

Could they still reach their original destination? It was worth a try. “Go wherever the compass guides you! Just hurry!”

“Fine, geez! Hold on –“

“Oh, no, you won’t!” Her flames darkening with fury, Pyronica grew rapidly in size and reached her hands towards the travelers; but before she could trap them between her now enormous fingers, they were gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Could they make it out of the Nightmare Realm? Was the stray step on their journey merely a passing malfunction of the compass?

But regardless of his wishful thinking, Ford couldn’t feel the interdimensional pull in his bones when they teleported. Even before the world around them settled in place again, he knew they hadn’t gotten far from where they’d left.

“Still here”, said Bill dryly as they looked around and found themselves once again trapped in the Nightmare Realm, this time in the middle of an asteroid zone.

Ford swallowed his disappointment and growing worry and said: “Regardless, this is an improvement in our position. Do you see those caverns in the nearest asteroid? Let us take cover there for now.”

They started swimming towards the cave Ford was pointing at. “It is common for creatures who have no chance of surviving in this lawless realm to seek refuge in these hiding spots”, Ford explained, hoping that this, at least, was something that hadn’t changed after the end of Bill’s tyranny. “If we are lucky, we might find ourselves amongst an amiable community of outcasts. They might even be able to help us.”

“Ha! That’s where you played your little hide-and-seek after you took a tumble into my portal”, said Bill, rubbing his hands together. “So this is where the little people and wanted runaways hole up, huh? Huh, what an interesting tidbit!”

“I know what you are thinking, Bill”, Ford cut in. “And I will not allow you an opportunity to sell out the whereabouts of these hideouts.”

“Who said I would? Oh, believe me, I don’t want anything to do with this –“

“Besides, it was _my_ portal.”

“Huh?”

“The portal was mine”, said Ford bitingly. “Not yours. I was the one who built it from scratch.”

Bill looked outraged. “Whoa, whoa, hold the damn phone! You wouldn’t even have had the _scratch_ if it wasn’t for me! I practically guided your useless six-fingered hand from the get-go right up to the finish line!”

“Nevertheless, you could not have done it without me.”

“ _You_ couldn’t have done it without _me!_ ”

“Uh, guys”, Wendy interrupted, “not saying I was there or anything, but wasn’t the portal actually built by McGucket?”

Both Bill and Ford looked at her, then at each other. With a scowl, they started talking at the same time. “I kicked off the whole –“

“My intellectual contribution –“

“OH MY GOD, WHO CARES! CUT YOUR BOY BRAG AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE ALIENS POINTING SWORDS AT US!”

Grenda’s roar shut them both up, and suddenly Ford felt ashamed for his needless outburst. “I apologize”, he said quickly. His past disputes with Bill should’ve been the least of his concerns in the unfolding situation; right now, the four elephant-headed creatures guarding the entrance of the cave they were swiftly approaching proved themselves a more pressing matter. “All right, let me handle this.”

They were soon caught by the asteroid’s gravity and pulled towards the entrance, where the guards readied their swords. It didn’t look like a warm welcome. As soon as they were standing on solid ground again, Ford held up his hands in a disarming gesture. “Greetings. We come with peaceful intents. All I ask of you is to let us take cover in your cave.”

“Got the goods?” the nearest creature sporting an unkempt beard jerked out.

“Pardon me?”

“No goods, no entry”, stated another with a wicked grin. “You want cover? Better pay up.”

 _This isn_ _’t how it used to be_ , Ford thought with a frown. _Whatever happened to mutual aid and fellowship?_ “I am not sure what ‘goods’ you are referring to. However, we do have certain commodities from Dimension 46’\ that I might consider trading for a hiding place… Let me see…”

“Wait, isn’t that…” A third creature approached them with widened eyes. “Could it be _him_?”

“Oh, me?” Bill said instantly and reached to tip his hat. “Well, well, good to see I’m still hot stuff around here! The mob never forgets! Bill Cipher’s the name, and –“

“Not you, Tetris dropout!” The triangle let out an infuriated yelp as he was shoved roughly away. “ _You!_ Human! Show me your hands!”

“What? Right, certainly.” Ford was taken slightly aback by the sudden attention – he’d thought Bill’s presence would cause them trouble amidst the outcasts who might still remember his reign of terror, but he hadn’t expected to come across creatures who would still recognize him well over thirty years after his last visit.

He held out his hands for the guards to see. “My name is Stanford Pines”, he introduced himself in an amiable tone. “I have been in this realm twice in the past as a wanted fugitive, so you might find my face distantly familiar from the posters.”

One of the creatures took a sudden step back, and its sword fell on the ground with a clatter. “S-six fingers!” it squeaked through its trunk. “It’s him! The destroyer of worlds!”

Ford startled. “What? No, I –“

“Don’t listen to him, just run! RUN!”

One by one, the guards threw their weapons away and clambered after their fleeing comrade and into a tunnel in the back of the cave. The echoes of their terrified cries could be heard long after they’d disappeared from sight.

Slowly, Ford let his raised hands flop back to his sides. “It… It appears the word has spread”, he said bleakly.

The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by Mabel, who walked up to him and gave him a hug. “You’re not a destroyer of worlds, Grunkle Ford”, she comforted.

“Hah! Yeah”, Bill snorted loudly with his arms crossed. “Damn straight he isn’t. He couldn’t destroy a single fly without the powers he stole from _me!_ ”

Ford frowned. This wasn’t nearly enough to push his buttons, but having to repeat himself at every turn was frustrating nevertheless. “Bill, for god’s sake, stop making everything about yourself. We don’t even know if my other self is using your powers or not!”

“Well, _obviously_ he is, just like you are!” Bill yelled back. “You guys are all the same, and I couldn’t be more literal here!”

“Then why do you think he took the Swaven?” Ford insisted, not even knowing what point he was trying to make. “What other use could he possibly have for a creature with strong anomalous properties?”

“We don’t know”, Candy put in diplomatically, stepping between them, “and that’s what we’re here to find out.”

“Yeah, if you guys could focus long enough to actually get there”, Wendy sighed and sat down to lean her head on the wall. “Seriously, whatever it is between you two, cut it out. We need to hash our next move. At least now we can do that in peace and quiet, right?”

After one last irked look at Bill, Ford cleared his throat. “You have a point. Perhaps my ill reputation provided us some advantage in this regard. It is unlikely that belligerent gang had any knowledge that could’ve benefitted us.”

“Well, guess same goes for me”, said Wendy and crossed her arms behind her head, “so I’m gonna take a nap while you guys do nerd. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”

“All right. We’ll figure this out, do not worry.”

Wendy smiled with her eyes already closed. “Not one bit, Doc. You got this. Cheers.”

Mabel rolled up her sleeves. “So what’s the plan, Grunkle Ford?”

“Well.” Ford crossed his hands behind his back. “For now, we can assume a relative safety in this cave, so our current priority is to find a way to get out of this hellish realm and continue our mission. I would suggest we take the interdimensional compass apart and check it for possible internal malfunctions.” He paused and frowned. “If I only had the right tools for opening it…”

“If tools are what you need, I’m your girl”, Candy suggested. “I have a very special Swiss Army knife with 162 different tools.”

Ford blinked. “That is… unexpected, I must admit, but most excellent! I trust you with dismantling the device, then. Precision mechanics was never within my field of expertise for, well… rather obvious reasons.” He glanced at his six fingers and smiled. “I am glad I brought all of you along. I do not know how we would’ve survived even this far without you. Bill?”

“What?” came a dull response.

“Hold out your hand, please. I need to unfasten the compass from your monitoring bracelet.”

Bill grumbled moodily as Ford detached the small device from his wrist, and crossed his arms in a sulking manner as soon as his hand was released. After handing the compass to eagerly waiting Candy, Ford gave a long look at the triangle, who had turned to face the other way. With a small gesture, he moved a little further away from the girls to the other side of the cave. Bill followed unenthusiastically with a suspicious look in his eye.

“Bill… For what it’s worth…” he spoke softly, unsurely. The words on his tongue felt foreign and uncalled for, even oddly inappropriate. He drew breath. “I am sorry for what happened with your… friends, if that is what you choose to call them. They may be rowdy hooligans and brutes, but even I did not expect them to turn against you with such little provocation. I understand perfectly if you feel betrayed.”

Bill huffed. “Let me enrich your vocabulary a little, pal. Minions. Underlings. Stooges. Props. So no, no hard feelings. No feelings at all! Do you follow?”

“Yes, I follow.” It was the kind of response he’d known to expect. “In that case, I suppose it is rather seemly for the tables to have turned during the time you were gone. If anything, it was an unavoidable development. One past commitment less to worry about.”

Bill shot a suspicious glance at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Ford moved closer to him. “What it means”, he said quietly, “is you no longer have a place to return to. If you ever try to get away from me, you will soon realize you have nowhere to go. No one will be waiting for you. So _do not_ –“, with a sudden motion, he took a hold of Bill’s arm even though the demon was already frozen completely still, “– try to escape me. _Do not leave me_. Do you understand? You…” His grip tightened, and his voice was starting to tremble. “You belong to…”

“Great uncle Ford”, came a voice from the other side of the cave. It was the first time Dipper had spoken out after they’d entered the Nightmare Realm. He’d been so quiet Ford had almost forgotten about his participation on their mission.

It still took him a few seconds to realize he’d been addressed, and in a rather commanding tone, no less. “Dipper –“

“You need to let go of Bill. Now.”

“What? …Oh, of course.” Ford released his grip on Bill, who instantly pulled an arm’s length away from him, holding his wrist like it was hurt. Obviously, it wasn’t, Ford thought to himself. It couldn’t be. The strength he’d put into his grip was barely enough to cause an uncomfortable amount of pressure.

And Bill wasn’t the only one acting like he’d just done something gruesome and violent. There was something in Dipper’s eyes Ford had never seen before, and that something left him so shaken he instinctively took a step back when he should’ve approached his great nephew.

“Brovember?” Mabel had turned from Candy to look at her twin. Her expression turned instantly into a worried frown at the sight of his challenging stance. “What’s wrong?”

The cave was suddenly very quiet. Even Wendy opened her left eye slightly to see what was going on.

“Dipper, he’s – he’s all right”, Ford stammered, attempting a reassuring smile. Since when did Dipper care that much about Bill’s well-being? “I did not hurt him in any way, do not worry. We were simply –“

“I’ve finally figured it out”, Dipper cut him off. “All of it. Took me a while, but… Everything fits.”

“What? Do you mean you’ve determined why we ended up in this realm instead of our destination?”

“Yeah, I did”, Dipper said without a hint of enthusiasm. “That and a lot more. It all makes sense now.”

“Why, but… that is splendid news!” Ford tried despite his pulse picking up with growing distress. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. “Could you… share with us your discoveries?”

Dipper clenched his fists. “Did Rick ever tell you it would take us to the exact dimension we were heading?”

“Well, he – no, he did not say that, now that you mentioned it.” Ford frowned. “I assumed… But how would it navigate us through the Multiverse to a destination we don’t even know the name of?”

“Maybe the compass doesn’t need to be given directions. Maybe it’s called a compass because it gravitates to interdimensional pull where it last detects it.”

“I cannot believe I never thought of that”, Ford wondered. “It makes perfect sense. That is a brilliant deduction, Dipper.”

“So… I’m right?” Dipper asked, this time with a smaller voice.

Ford nodded. “Yes, I believe your theory is correct. However… If that is the case, why would it take us to the Nightmare Realm? Are you suggesting –”

“Hahah, oh man... Gosh.” Dipper’s shoulders slumped as he let out a weak laughter. “Okay, so it’s official. I’m right. He was right all along. I didn’t… Yeah, I think… I think this is it.” For a moment he looked like he needed something to support himself on. Ford took a step forward to help him, but then something froze him still.

This entire time, Dipper had kept his right hand hidden behind his back. It was a subtle item of body language Ford had encountered numerous times during the more hazardous parts of his travels, and it was always a bad sign.

“Oh!” Candy suddenly piped in, glancing through her traveling gear she’d unpacked from her backpack and spread on the cave’s floor around her. “Where’s my –“

_Oh, no._

At that moment, Ford’s worst fears were confirmed as Dipper pulled out Candy’s laser gun and aimed it directly at his chest.

Wendy was up on her feet in an instant. “Whoa, dude! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“My death ray!” Candy exclaimed.

“ _Dipper!_ ” Mabel screamed, covering her mouth in shock.

Ford didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at the gun; his eyes were glued to the feverish darkness in Dipper’s eyes, the kind that told him of a place he’d been himself in the past.

Suddenly it all fell into place.

“Bill”, he finally said quietly. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth”, Dipper replied, his voice unsteady. “He told me the truth. The whole truth! The one you could never share with me. I wasn’t worth it, right? And that’s why… Wendy, _don_ _’t!_ ” he suddenly shouted as the young lumberjack bolted at him from the wall. “DON’T! I will shoot, I mean it!”

“No, you don’t!”

“I MEAN IT!” The laser gun’s barrel was shifted towards Wendy. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

“BITE ME, DUMBASS!” Wendy roared as if the gun wasn’t even there.

“ _Wendy, stop!_ ” Ford yelled as he leapt in front of the infuriated girl just in time to stop her, wrapping his arms around her waist so she couldn’t continue her foolhardy charge.

“Are you kidding me, Doc?” she raged on while struggling against his hold. “Let me go, he’s not gonna shoot! He’s just a kid playing with a gun, look, he’s not even holding it right – he’ll snap out of it as soon as you take it away from him and smack him upside his stupid head! I have three brothers, I know this stuff!”

“You don’t understand”, Ford said in a low voice. “He isn’t himself. Bill has done his worst. There’s… no way of telling what he’ll do.” He knew; he had been there. “Let us not take any chances. For now, let’s just… talk.”

Dipper tightened his hold of the laser gun. “I don’t want to talk.”

“It’s all right, Dipper. You can keep me at gunpoint if it makes you feel safer. I won’t let Wendy or anyone else threaten you.” He squeezed Wendy’s shoulder reassuringly before letting her go. Wendy huffed, but gave him a short nod before retreating a couple of steps from him, keeping her eyes steadily on Dipper. “Now…” Ford continued, raising his hands as a sign of surrender. “All I ask you is to tell me what this is about. There may have been some kind of a misunderstanding –”

“You know what this is about”, Dipper cut him off mercilessly.

Ford shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask you if I did.”

“Stop lying! How else could you get your hands on all that plutonium?”

“Plutonium?” Ford repeated, frowning in confusion. “Is… is this about the portal?”

“ _Of course it_ _’s about the portal!_ _”_ Dipper shouted. “Everything is about the portal! Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on here!”

“ _You_ stop being rude to Grunkle Ford and get to the point, if you even have one!” Mabel cried, wiping off tears of anger rolling under the rim of her goggles. “This is stupid and I want to go home!”

“Oh, so now I’m stupid?” Dipper flared up. “Mabel, you have no idea how big this is! No idea!”

“Then tell us”, Ford said. “Tell us everything. Whatever it is, I am sure we can solve it together. If…” he gulped. “If it is me you’re afraid of, please, at least confide to your twin sister and friends. I will be glad to step aside and leave, if… that is what you wish.”

“Let me guess”, Dipper threw, his voice dripping with distrust. “You would take Bill with you?”

Ford clenched his fists. “Of course I would take Bill with me”, he said, his facade of calmness suddenly wavering. “There is no way I would leave him alone with the five of you in this infernal realm. It is my duty to watch over him at all times.”

“To be honest with you, Great uncle Ford”, Dipper said slowly, “I don’t think you ever intended to watch over him in the first place.”

“What… are you saying?”

Dipper took a step back, closer to the cave’s entrance. “If someone’s leaving, it’s going to be me”, he said. His hands holding the gun were now visibly shaking. “And I’m taking Bill with me.”

“ _What?_ ” Ford exclaimed, throwing all cautiousness away. “That’s – that’s absurd! Where would you go? Why would you take him? Bill would never…”

But a shimmering light moving in the corner of his eye was telling him otherwise. Slowly, his eyes shifted towards Bill, who floated past him towards his great nephew with his eye closed.

“No”, he stammered. His throat felt dry. “I won’t let you.”

But the Blood Chains didn’t appear.

_No._

He looked back to Dipper’s paled face and his stiff expression, like he was desperately concentrating on something. “You’re… You’re interfering with my control…”

As Bill settled on Dipper’s side, he opened his eye and granted Ford a smile rippling with vindictive triumph that sent a violent shudder down Ford’s spine.

“How long did you plan for this?” he growled.

“This is a joke, right? Dipper!” Wendy lashed out suddenly. “I know you’re smarter than this! Didn’t you learn anything from the last time that triangle asshat tricked you?”

“Yeah! He’s just using you as his puppet again!” Mabel joined. “Come on, bro-bro, stop being silly! At – at least let me come with you!”

“I’m sorry, Mabel”, Dipper breathed out. For the first time, he looked more pained than determined. “I have to do this. Alone. I can’t risk putting you in danger as well.”

“But I _want_ to be put in danger”, his twin insisted with tears in her eyes. “I’m Mabel Danger Pines, remember? And we’re the mystery twins in space, you promised!”

Dipper shook his head. “Great uncle Ford, remember what you told me in the past? The thing I’ve got framed on my nightstand?”

“ _’_ _To be a hero means to fight back even when victory seems impossible_ _’_ ”, Ford recited monotonously, almost wearily. He did not want to bring the phrase they both were so fond of in this nightmarish situation. “Dipper, I don’t… I cannot see how that could possibly be relevant to whatever you’re trying to accomplish.”

“You’ll see”, Dipper promised. “You’ll understand. You might even be proud of me when this is over.” He let out a weak laughter. “Great uncle Ford, if… by chance, if it turns out I was wrong about you after all, I’m… I’m really sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He held back a sob. “But I have to go.”

“This is but a cruel plan to turn us against one another”, Ford said quietly.

 Dipper nodded. “I know. I understand that much. But I still have to do this.”

“When reality hits you, you’ll have no means of fighting him.”

“I have the Blood Chains.”

“The chains will not be enough. Please, don’t go.”

“Just let me put him in a headlock”, Wendy demanded, losing her temper when Ford shook his head again. “Come on, this is serious! Don’t you see he’s actually going to leave?”

 “Dipper, don’t do this”, Mabel sobbed. “Please…”

 “I’m the only one who can do this. I… I have to.”

“Grunkle Ford, tell him”, Mabel wailed, but Ford knew from the look in Dipper’s eyes it was no use – the boy was in too deep. Instead, his gaze wandered off to meet Bill’s.

“Don’t go”, he told him. It was not a plead, but a command.

Bill’s smug expression didn’t waver; neither did his stare that seemed to sink straight into the back of his mind where his worst fears dwelled. And when he reached up to mockingly tip his hat at Ford, the old researcher could feel his heart turn into ice.

_This was no passing act of rebellion. This was his escape._

_This was goodbye._

Ford stood frozen still, every feeling leaving his body as Dipper held out his hand and manifested the faintly glowing chains around Bill’s wrists. His nephew threw a last unreadable glance at him before he stepped over the edge, pulled the demon with him into the void and disappeared.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _“_ I can _not_ believe you just let him leave!” Wendy stomped around, sending pieces of rock flying out of the cave with the side of her boots like soccer balls. _“_ Why didn’t you let me kick his sorry ass when I had the chance?”

Ford was sitting down beside the wall, leaning his forehead against his knuckles. “Please try to understand, Wendy”, he spoke echolessly. “He was in a deep state of paranoia. Had we restrained him, it would only have caused him to reject us even further.”

“So it was better to let him waltz alone into what’s probably one of the most dangerous places in existence?” Wendy huffed. “Man, you are one terrible parental figure, you know that, right?”

Ford shook his head slowly. Some distant trace of common sense in his head told him he should be making plans to rescue Dipper as they spoke, but all he could do was stare powerlessly ahead. “There was not a single thing I could’ve done to stop them”, he muttered. “Dipper had seized control of the Blood Chains from me. I had no power over Bill.”

Wendy clutched at her head and groaned. “ _Urrgh!_ This is why I hate guys! We’re talking about Dipper here, not _him!_ Just what is it with you two? All you guys do is snark at each other over the stupidest things like you can’t even see there are other people around _and_ a world-saving mission we should be focusing on! I get it when it’s the triangle, he’s probably got a personality disorder or two going on, but you, Doc? It’s just _weird!_ ”

Ford winced. Wendy’s merciless words tearing into him made the hollow feeling pooling in his chest ache twice as painfully.

“I…” A thousand excuses heaped together in his mind. _He_ _’s my responsibility. I need to be on the constant lookout for any treacherous acts he might try to commit._ Yet despite his vigilance, this is what it had all come to.

He couldn’t bear to think back on the look of antipathy and shattered trust on his apprentice’s face. It was Fiddleford McGucket all over again… only worse.

With another groan, Wendy turned away from Ford to kick more rocks around and punch the cave’s wall. Mabel sat a little further away from him, her sweater pulled over her head and Candy and Grenda holding her in a comforting manner. When Candy noticed Ford’s gaze had wandered at them, she squinted.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Doctor Pines”, she said. “Is it true what Dipper said? How _did_ you get the plutonium?”

“Well, I…” Ford sighed. “I admit that I did not tell Dipper about the origins of certain components I gathered for the portal’s construction. However, there is a valid reason for that: I myself am largely unaware of the means with which I acquired them. Bill and I had a certain division of work – he would take my body into his possession for the night, and I was to stay in the mindscape and study the portal equations while he was gone. The components would be ready in my laboratory when I woke up in the morning, or sometimes the day after.”

“Hah! Good times.” He gave a start; he could’ve sworn he’d heard Bill make a sarcastic comment somewhere in his mind. But there was no Bill. He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady as he continued.

“Questions were never asked, as I was afraid more than one of Bill’s methods were of illegal nature. I thought it was a necessary evil for the greater good. That is all I know. I… I have no clue what Dipper was trying to get at with these haphazard accusations.” He closed his eyes. “I do not know what I have done to betray his trust so completely.”

“But it _was_ Bill, right?” Wendy said, turning around in such a frenzied manner that it took Ford a few seconds to realize she was defending him for a change. “He’s obviously messed Dipper up major time! Who knows what kind of lies he’s told him!”

“Bill cannot lie”, Ford corrected her half-heartedly. “No, this has to be something else.”

 Suddenly Mabel’s muffled voice could be heard through the thick layer of wool over her head. “You know how he gets when he feels left out”, she griped. “You’re the one who messed him up, Grunkle Ford. All that _‘trust no one_ _’_ garbage written in your journal he found… He’s been a nervous wreck waiting to happen ever since!”

Ford couldn’t take it anymore. He buried his face in his hands and wished for the world around him to disappear.

Even Wendy looked uncomfortable at Mabel’s words. “Uh, dude… That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? I mean, there’s no doubt Bill had something to do with this…”

“AAAHHH! IT’S STARING AT ME!” Grenda’s uproar made everyone flinch as she jumped on her feet and stomped repeatedly on something on the ground right next to Mabel’s grappling hook. “QUICK! KILL IT WITH FIRE! DESTROY IT BEFORE IT LAYS EGGS!”

Her shouting was enough for both Ford and Mabel to peek out from their respective hiding places. “What? What is it?”

“Oh, crap!” Wendy joined in. “Monster body parts! Mabel, did you remove the eye from your grappling hook after you plucked it out?”

“Ew, no! It was still there?”

“Yes, and it moved!” Candy cried out, leaping up as well to stare at the scrappy mess Grenda’s trampling had left on the ground. “It’s been watching us this whole time!”

“IT’S ALL OVER MY BOOT NOW! GROSS!”

Ford was up on his feet in an instant. “That means they know our location. They could be here at any minute.”

“So that means we gotta bail, right? Man, this mission’s just one big snafu after another.” Wendy was already packing their gear scattered on the ground. “Move it, girls!”

“Wait”, Ford said, gritting his teeth. “We cannot leave just yet. The monsters are coming this way, and there are people hiding in the tunnels. We must warn them.”

“But Doctor Pines –“

“This is not up for debate!” Ford thundered. “I will not allow any more innocent creatures to end up in harm’s way because of my negligence!”

“Okay, fine! So what’s the plan?” Wendy asked, spreading her arms in frustration.

Ford thought over the situation quickly. “The refugees are fearful of my sight, so I cannot go and warn them. The four of you need to do it without me. I will remain here and guard the cave’s entrance.”

“Grunkle Ford, we can’t just leave you alone –“ Mabel tried, but Ford silenced her with a grave look.

“One of you is unarmed, so it is best the four of you stay together. I am the only one wielding a weapon that can completely disintegrate our enemies instead of just harming them.” He smiled a bit. “Do not worry, Mabel. I survived on my own through countless perilous worlds for thirty years. I’ll be fine, I promise. Now, hurry! We may still be able to make it before the monsters reach this place.”

Wendy nodded and took the command. “Come on, girls, let’s get this over with. See you in a few, Doc. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I understand. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

After the echo of the girls’ footsteps had disappeared into the tunnel’s depths, Ford turned to face the cave’s entrance and silently readied his gun. As he stared into the technicolor void, he found himself in a place he’d never thought he would end up in again… ever since the day of Bill’s resurrection.

He was all alone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Reality had hit Dipper.

It had struck him like a train, clawing its way out of his insides in the form mindless panic that rendered him unable to think anything outside the fact that he had just made the biggest, stupidest mistake of his life.

They hadn’t gotten but a few asteroids away from the rest of the travelers before he was paralyzed with terrified remorse and lost all sense of what he had set out to do.

“Take your time, kid… It’s not like you abandoned your friends and family for this or anything.”

Bill rolled his eye for what must’ve been at least the fifteenth time since they’d left as he watched Dipper lean against the wall of another cave they had retreated to, gasping for breath in violent, shallow inhales.

“Well, at least the hurling has stopped, so that’s a win, I guess. Wasn’t a pretty sight in a weightless state, I’ll tell you that”, he continued his dry commentary and received a slightly bloodshot glower for a response.

Dipper turned his back against the wall, let himself collapse weakly on the ground and squeezed his eyes shut to stop the nauseating swaying in his head. He might have just destroyed his entire life – another wave of terror surged through him at the thought, but he fought it down to his best ability – so the only thing left for him to do was to finish what he had started. After that… He had no idea what would follow, but at least he had something to focus on for now.

“So where…” He took another gulp of air. “Where is it?”

Bill raised his brow. “The what?”

“You know perfectly well what. The leak.”

Bill’s expression turned slightly amused. He shrugged.

Dipper’s stare hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Eh. Means what it means.” Another shrug, this time an openly mocking one.

“Don’t play games with me!” the boy lashed out, still out of breath. “Are you saying you don’t know where it is or do you just refuse to tell me? Yes or no?”

Bill snorted. “Come on, Pine Tree, you have to try a little harder than that. That’s not even a yes-or-no question!”

“All right!” Dipper clambered up, ignoring his still shaking knees. “Bill, do you know“, he articulated in a loud and clear voice, rising anger burning in his throat, “where the leak to the mindscape is located?”

But Bill just glared at him with an expression full of condescending ridicule.

Dipper lost his temper. _“Answer me!_ _”_

“Or what?”

“What?”

“Or you’ll do what?” Bill asked, beaming with smug delight. “Name the game, lay your cards on the table, give me some options here!”

Dipper’s fists were shaking. He remained silent for a long while. “He was right”, he faltered after a long silence. “Great uncle Ford was right. You planned this all along, didn’t you? You were never going to help me fix this! You just wanted to make us go separate ways!”

“HAH! Right on the money, kid!” Bill screeched victoriously. “Welcome to the real world! I mean, just how _stupid_ and _delusional_ do you have to be to take the bait at the worst possible moment? Friends close, enemies closer, I always say! And here I thought you’d learned some basic strategic thinking from all those mystery novels you read! But no, you’re just as ridden with a hero complex as your gullible grand uncle! You Pines never fail to make me laugh!”

“Shut up! _Just shut up!_ ” Dipper yelled, feeling nauseous again. “Fine, whatever! I don’t need your help! I’ll just do this on my own! I’ll – I’ll find it –“

“Sure, good luck with that! If it even exists, that is!”

All warmth escaped Dipper’s body. “You can’t lie”, he said. “Great uncle Ford told me that. _You_ told me that. _You_ _can_ _’t lie_.”

With a smirk, Bill glanced briefly up from his fingernails he was busy inspecting. “Truth is relative, kiddo.”

Dipper took a step back from the triangle, staring at him with no expression to speak of. Then he reached to the pocket of his coat, pulled out the stolen laser gun and pointed it at Bill. “Lie. Now.”

The haughty look in Bill’s eye was gone in an instant. “Hey. Enough with the gun, okay? It was hilarious when you pulled it on your grunkle, but now it’s just st–“

“DON’T CALL ME STUPID! LIE TO ME NOW OR I’LL SHOOT!” Dipper raged. “I have no hang-ups here, believe me! I’ve had enough of your mind games! All you ever do is manipulate, deceive and make everyone miserable! And between you and me, I don’t think you’ll ever be of any use to us, no matter what Great uncle Ford says! You just – you ruin everything! We’d all be better off without you!”

“Use?” Bill repeated. “What do you mean by ‘use’? I just took you all the way here, for hell’s sake! How is that not – wait…”

“I’m serious, Bill”, Dipper growled. “You wanted options, right? Either prove to me you can lie, tell me where the leak is, or face… whatever this will do to your physical form. I’m pretty sure it’s going to hurt.”

“Uh, kid…” Bill’s stare had wandered off the gun and was glued to somewhere behind Dipper’s back. “You might wanna save your shots for those guys over there.”

“What?” Dipper could hear loud, cackling laughter as he turned around to see Pyronica and the rest of her gang shooting towards them through space.

“THERE HE IS!” she screamed victoriously. “AND HE’S GOT THE SHRIMP WITH HIM!”

“What happened to the geezer who had him in chains?”

“WHO CARES! GO GET THEM, BOYS!”

Without wasting a second, Dipper pointed the laser gun at the nearest monster and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

“W-what?”

“Looks like you’re all out of batteries, pal”, Bill said, shrugged and turned towards the entrance. “Welp, I’m out! Was nice knowing ya!”

“Don’t even think about it!” Dipper gritted his teeth as he barely managed to stop Bill from slipping into the void. The strain on his mind as the Blood Chains materialized was far heavier than what it had been before. Could it be because of his great uncle’s absence? “Use your powers to stop them! Do something!”

“ _I don_ _’t have any powers, you dolt!_ ” Bill bristled. “ _You_ do something!”

“Flashlight, flashlight – _come on_ –“ Dipper fumbled panickily through his pockets, sweat breaking on the back of his neck as the gang of hollering monsters got closer and closer, baring their fangs in preparation to attack –

The entire cave shook from the beam of light that blinded Dipper momentarily. When his eyes readjusted to the outlines of his surroundings again, the gang of nightmares was nowhere to be seen.

Dipper gulped hard against the pulse quickening in his throat. The beam had come from the pit of the cave, behind his back.

He turned around; and for a moment, he thought his heartbeat had disappeared altogether.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had been too long already.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Ford rapped his fingers rapidly against the barrel of the quantum destabilizer. It was hard for him to hold his position and resist the urge to start pacing around. Where were the kids? And why hadn’t the abominations attacked the cave yet?

They shouldn’t have split up in the first place. He shouldn’t have let Dipper go. He should’ve focused on the mission instead of his petty rivalries with Bill. None of this was ever supposed to happen…

“Wh…?”

He gave a small start and pricked his ears, utter confusion and a strange sense of nostalgia taking over worry in his mind. He was sure he’d heard it, but… Yes, there it was again. How could that be?

He turned slowly around to face the end of the cave where the tunnel dipped into the rocky surface. His eyes went wide: there, barely visible in the darkness, he could see a decades-old landline. It was precisely the same kind his family had had in his childhood home. If… not that exact one.

And it was ringing.

Ford stood frozen in place and listened to the long-forgotten sound for a long while, letting it awaken memories he didn’t know were still buried somewhere in the back of his mind. As if in a haze, he slowly walked to the phone, knelt down and, after a fleeting moment of hesitation, picked up the receiver.

“Yes, this is Stanford Pines speaking.”

There was a moment of silence that all but confirmed his fearful doubts. Then, he could hear the response.

“It really is rather funny”, a voice said softly. “I was going to make the same statement.”

Ford’s fingernails sank deep into the flesh of his palm. It was, without a doubt, his voice – his own voice, only lifeless and hollow in ways that weren’t caused by the old landline’s rustle.

But before he could muster up the strength to answer, his other self uttered four words that drained all blood from his veins.

“I have the boy.”

Ford’s free hand flew onto the receiver to squeeze it with force that threatened to crack the plastic cover. “Please”, he breathed out, “I beg of you. Do not harm him. If… If it is my life you’re after, I will gladly exchange it for his safety. Please.”

Another silence. “If I wanted to harm him, I would have already done it.”

Ford let out a shuddering breath that wasn’t exactly one of relief. _If I wanted to harm him_ _…_ The undertones were painfully clear. His double was perfectly capable of the deed, he simply did not want to go through with it. And Ford had a feeling that could be subject to change… depending on what he would say next.

“I can only assume”, he started, weighing carefully on his every word before letting it past his lips, “that you do not want to kill me… at least not right away… seeing how that, too, is something you could have already carried out when you first came to my dimension. Am I correct?”

“Yes. I have no intention to kill you.”

“Then…” Ford drew a deep breath. “What are your demands?”

“I simply wish to talk to you in person”, his other self said calmly. “Let us meet eye to eye over a cup of tea. That is all.”

That… didn’t sound right. “Is Dipper all right?”

“He is quite deeply shaken by this turn of events, but in regard to his physical condition, he is unharmed.”

“Is…” Ford gulped. “Is Bill with him?”

“Yes. He is being properly detained by your grand nephew, restrained from trying to fuse with his counterpart.” All of a sudden, it felt a little easier to breathe. “The five of us had a most interesting discussion. And as I already stated, I would like you to join us.”

Five…? Ford frowned. He’d imagine the fourth participant would be the other Bill, but who could be the fifth? “I take it you won’t free them unless I join you.”

“That is correct.”

“So in other words, you are holding them hostage.” Ford sighed heavily, cursing in his mind. “Will you let them go after we have… talked?”

“Naturally, that is the case”, the other Stanford confirmed. “Of course, it depends on the outcome of our discussion. However, I am sure you realize that you have no choice. If you refuse to join us, I will kill them both.”

Ford stared blankly at the opposite wall. The sound of his own voice uttering those words was something that would haunt him for a long time. “I… I need to ensure that the rest of my traveling companies are safe as well.”

“I have already taken care of that”, said his double, confirming his earlier hunch. “I have secured them into a bubble of hopes and dreams similar to the one Bill used during his invasion. I can assure you they are completely safe.”

“Could they not come with me?”

“No.” For a moment, the voice sounded colder. “It is of utmost importance that Mabel does not join us.”

Every warning alarm in Ford’s head was set off at those words, but he knew there was no room for negotiation.

“Well, then”, said the other. “If we have reached an agreement…”

Ford squinted at the sudden sensation of crackling electricity; before his eyes, a glowing chasm appeared on the cave’s wall mere feet away from him. The other end of the portal.

“I will meet you on the other side.”

The call ended with a faint click. Before Ford could let down the receiver, it disappeared from between his fingers like it had never existed; but the portal was still there.

Ford stood up and stared into the squirming white electricity. Never in his life had he been so fearful of what was to come.

Holding his breath, he took a step, then another into the light, until it faded around him and he was embraced by the familiar sight of the place he called home.


	16. Arc II | Entry No. 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content disclaimer: by the current looks of it, this chapter is where the story hits its darkest point. I think it's justified to call this one a feelride, so be prepared. Also, warning for mild violence.

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 16._

_The worst possible timeline._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Come – _on!_ Stupid – goddamn – bubble!”

“AAAAAAHHHH!” Grenda let out a full-blown war cry as she made what must’ve been the seventeenth leap attack against the protective bubble’s wall, pounding it with both of her fists.

“Urgh, it’s no use! What’s wrong with this thing?” Wendy shouted, clutching at her hair in a fit of frustration. “Last time this happened, we could take a hike whenever we felt like it! And we all _want_ out, right? Right, Mabel?” she barked, turning on her heels to glare at the girl resting her head on the lap of a very brightly colored young man.

“Of course I want out”, Mabel muttered. “Just let me have this, okay? I really missed my boys.”

“Mabel, my baby girl”, Craz hummed and placed his radical sunglasses gently on Mabel’s head. “You know we’ll always be near… in here.” He pointed at Mabel’s chest.

Xyler beside him whistled. “Sweet rhymes, bro! But you know, Mabes, putting your brother’s safety before two awesome hunks is totally the righteous thing to do!”

“Thanks, guys”, Mabel smiled. “But really, why can’t we leave?”

“There’s something different about this bubble”, Wendy grumbled, kicking the sparkly wall one more time for good measure. “It’s not created for any one of us in particular. Instead, it seems to be granting all of our wishes. Like this beauty here”, she pointed out, throwing a glance at the enormous hammer she’d summoned that was resting against her shoulder. “And the dream beaus, even though they’re not exactly being helpful with the situation at hand.”

“Hold it, sister”, Mabel frowned. “I’d still be in Sweatertown if it wasn’t for these two. But you’re right… Instead of just keeping us in, this bubble seems to be actively stopping us from getting out.”

“It’s like some kind of a wordplay… Or a puzzle”, Wendy wondered out loud. “Come on, guys, think! There must be something we can do to turn this whole thing inside out. If it grants our wishes, I’m sure we can trick it into letting us out somehow! We just need to figure out where we’re heading…”

“Maybe this will help”, suggested Candy and held up the partially dismantled interdimensional compass.

“Yes. Yes!” Wendy whooped, clenching her fists with excitement. “Dipper had it all figured out, didn’t he? I bet he could tell us everything we need to know. Mabel, can you summon Dipper here? Some kind of a mental image, or a memory or whatever you have of him. And don’t you dare pull out that terrible Dippy Fresh thing again.”

Mabel averted her eyes, squeezing Xyler’s muscular arm in search of comfort. “I’d… rather not talk to Dipper right now. Even if it wasn’t actually him.”

“Mabel”, Wendy said with a note of warning in her voice. “I’ve got two words for you: Grow. Up.”

“Okay, okay”, the girl sighed with a grimace. “I know. But it won’t be pretty.” She turned to face the empty space in front of her.

“Dip-Dop? I need to talk to you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the past, whenever Stanford Pines was given an opportunity to move from one dimension to another, he would face whatever was ahead with his head held high. Now, as he took the last step over the portal’s edge and his boots met solid ground again, his eyes were closed, his shoulders hunched, and his hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking.  

When he felt the interdimensional current settle behind him and opened his eyes, he was met with the familiar golden glow he knew all too well. His eyes widened as his focus sharpened on the creature emitting the faint light.

What… had been done to him?

“B—”

But before the name left his lips, he stopped, clenched his fists even tighter and fought down the sudden jolt of dread twisting his stomach. This was not his Bill. Of course not… The faded glow, the fractured bricks near his upper corner, the jaded eye, and even the familiar walking cane he was leaning on… They weren’t… his Bill was –

But before his gaze could search or even register his surroundings, a voice spoke out.

“You were wise to join us.”

He startled; hearing the sound of his own voice felt all the more unnatural now that it wasn’t transmitted through a paradoxical landline. His eyes followed the words to an old garden table set near to where he was standing, and suddenly stopped at the sight of his grand nephew sitting at the table, covered by the shadow of another Stanford Pines.

“Dipper!” he exclaimed, taking a hasty step towards the boy sitting at the table. His knees felt weak with relief. “Oh, thank god… Please tell me you’re unharmed. I should have never let you leave…” He stopped. “Dipper?”

Dipper remained silent; Ford could now see he was pale and avoiding his gaze with his head bowed down. Slowly, Ford’s gaze shifted to the man dressed in foreboding crimson towering over him. His heart stayed still as he faced his other self with a plea, a threat… fear.

“I will answer that on his behalf”, the other Stanford said calmly, “as I have forbidden him from speaking. I also advised him not to make direct eye contact with you.”

“Why –“

“I will not tolerate any unnecessary interruptions”, he continued coldly.  “Not from you, nor from him. As you know, Mason has a rather unfortunate tendency to meddle with affairs that are none of his concern. I simply aim to eliminate any and all variables that could end up complicating the situation at hand even further.”

“I need confirmation from the boy himself”, Ford demanded. “I need to make sure he’s all right.”

 “I can assure you that he’s in perfectly good health.” He could see the twelve fingers on Dipper’s shoulders tighten their grip, and the boy tensing up beneath them. “Do not make me change that.”

Ford froze. “Promise me”, he said, trying his best to cover the tremble in his voice, “that you will not hurt him. I refuse to have a conversation with you with this threat hanging over me.”

“Sadly, you are no longer in a position to negotiate”, his other self said almost light-heartedly. “I must say you seem to have learned surprisingly little from the past we both share. A deal only holds its validity until one party reaches the goal they were aiming for. I have you here, now; the rest of our meeting will be determined by another set of rules entirely.”

A quiet scoff could be heard from the other end of the table. Ford turned towards the sound and saw Bill – his Bill – floating at the table’s end with a cup of tea in his hands. The Blood Chains, glowing paler than usual, had him tied to the table by his ankles.

Their eyes met for a fleeting second, and the intensity of hatred carved in the demon’s scarce features sent a shudder down Ford’s spine. It took him back to the first time they’d gazed at one another after Bill’s resurrection. It was like the past year had never even happened.

“He is what caused this hellish situation to unfold.”

Just as his eyes flickered towards the other two around the table – the other Bill, his dim surface and the dull stare fixed onto a teacup of his own, and someone sitting in a wheelchair facing away from Ford whose face he couldn’t see – he could hear his mirror image speak again.

“Allow me to clarify this for you, although I surmise you have already figured out as much. Since the end of last summer, he’s been playing an abominable mind game on your great nephew in hopes of either driving him out of his mind merely for entertainment, or, if such an opportunity were to arise, take advantage of his paranoia and growing distrust towards you to tear your family apart… and make his escape.”

For a moment, the old wounds of betrayal stung with pain in Ford’s chest. “Yes”, he said curtly, “I am aware of that.”

“Once again, he has wronged you and your family in ways that are beyond disdainful and cruel.” Along with these words, the other Ford’s eyes drifted off to Bill – but not the one his words were addressing. “Don’t you think he deserves a punishment?” he then asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the more battered one of the identical triangle demons. A hint of crimson flashed around his captive’s wrists as he raised his cup to the eyelids turning to lips for a fleeting moment.

Ford blinked. “Well, I –“

“This environment”, his double continued over him, “provides you with the perfect opportunity to make it as simple and clean as possible. I sympathize deeply with your situation, so I will even go as far as to offer you a helping hand.” He gestured towards the Bill of this dimension, keeping his eyes keenly on him as though making sure he would take a sip of his tea. “His hand. With his powers, I am sure any kind of punishment you deem appropriate can be dealt with ease. Even psychological torment – which, admittedly, would be the most fitting response giving the nature of his deeds – is well within the boundaries of your options.”

Ford took an instinctive step back from the man. He was truly insane… with power, hatred, and everything between.

“That won’t be necessary”, he answered firmly. “I will handle this myself in due time. I don’t need a helping hand from you nor anyone else. This is a matter between Bill and me.”

“Have it your way.“ The man’s eyes moved slowly from the unresponsive demon back to Ford. “Now, as for Mason…” Once again, Dipper’s expression stiffened with fear. “Do not blame yourself for letting him leave. In fact, I am grateful that you did. You know the depths of paranoia as well as I do… That hellish state of mind allows no hesitation, no reason nor an intervention of common sense.  It makes you unyielding at the face of any and all opposition to what your mind is set out to do.”

“Yes”, said Ford bleakly. “I know.”

The man’s stare bit threateningly into his eyes. “And I am sure you know how far one is willing to go, what they are capable of, if pushed the wrong way. Your lack of action upon Mason's rebellious leave proves to me that you have grown wiser than to… push. Do you understand why I’m saying this?”

“Yes, I do”, nodded Ford, taking another step back and holding his hands up for further assurance. “I will listen to whatever it is you wish to tell me with the gravity it deserves. I give you my word.”

“I saved his life. It would be just as simple for me to end it. Just as effortless…”

Ford frowned. It was as though his double hadn’t even heard his words. “There is no need for that. I already gave you my –”

“Your word means nothing to me.” The sudden grip of cruelty crushing the man’s voice made Ford’s skin crawl. “Perhaps… this could be an opportunity for me to make my point perfectly clear.” Dipper squeezed his eyes shut; he was now visibly shaking. “A raw experience of loss, and your own powerlessness, would render you capable of fully seeing my struggle… This way, we could reach a perfect mutual understanding. An inkling of symmetry in this world twisted beyond recognition.”

“No… Please.” In that moment, Ford found himself wishing for complete control over the situation. “Please”, he whispered again, praying that Dipper would not open his eyes and make unintended eye contact with him that would cost the boy his life. “Please.” He prayed that Bill would not suddenly speak up and make a sarcastic comment that would push his double beyond the point of no return.

But the demon remained completely silent.

It was almost uncanny. Wasn’t this what Bill always wanted? Why didn’t he seize the opportunity to further the course of events that would surely lead to Ford’s destruction? Had his other self threatened him to silence as well? How? How could this Stanford have achieved something with Bill he never could?

He was struck with a sudden urge to turn around and see whatever emotion Bill’s eye was reflecting; but even though his actions did not seem to have the slightest chance of reaching his counterpart in his deranged state of mind, he could not risk it. So he kept his eyes on the terrifying scene before him.

“Then again…” He froze as the other Ford spoke. “Sharing my worldview with you is not what I ultimately invited you here for.”

The dark haze in his voice subsided; his gaze sought an eye contact with Ford, who knew he had snapped out of whatever mood had taken him and allowed himself to breathe.

“I must say this is quite the ironic situation”, the man then said with an oddly sentimental, almost nostalgic note in his voice. “We face each other as adversaries, both led into the hell we designed for ourselves by the words of our shared sworn enemy. It is said that the most frightful opponent to any man of intellect is none other than himself. Well…” He finally let go of Dipper’s shoulders and spread his arms to gesture at their surroundings in mockery of hospitality.

“Here we are.”

He left Dipper’s chair, allowing the boy a shuddering breath of relief he tried his best to hide, and circled the table to take a seat of his own. Now Ford could finally take his eyes off his unpredictable double and inspect his surroundings properly for the first time since his arrival.

This was the backyard of the Mystery Shack, although it now appeared largely different from the sight he was used to seeing in his own dimension. The Shack looming behind their backs no longer had its homely charm, and the wake of heavy reconstruction work done on the house was left all across the yard. The guesthouse, or signs of it having ever been built to begin with, were nowhere to be seen.

It was quiet, unnaturally so. Not a sound of birds or wildlife could be heard from the edge of the forest, no distant rumbling of a tractor… not a single trace of life outside the lonely garden table they were gathered around.

It was all painfully clear. No one else lived in this house anymore. Not even –

Breath caught in Ford’s throat. Before his mind could warn him of making any hasty movements, his steps had taken him to the wheelchair. He knelt down to face the man sitting in it.

“Stanl…”

His voice broke before the rest of the name could leave his lips. His brother – an empty husk of him – did not recognize it. Stan’s absent gaze was glued to an undefined spot in the woods, and his half-lidded eyes showed no sign of reacting to the call of his name or his twin’s hand reaching to squeeze his.

This was, without a doubt, the first key to the puzzle his double had laid before him… but right now, the agony he felt in his chest withheld him from putting the pieces together.

“It is no use”, the other Ford said calmly, crossing his hands on the table. “The very concept of Stanley Pines is long gone from his mind. Regardless of whether you call him by his name, or simply speak of someone of that name as if he was an entirely different person, it will not reach him. It is what you might call a dead angle in his comprehension, far beyond an issue with his memory.” An unreadable smile rippled on his face. “He refuses to remember.”

Ford looked at him, this time with fright. “How did this –“

“Please, take a seat.” His other self spoke over him again, gesturing towards the chair opposing him. Ford knew he had no choice. “I am sure you’d appreciate a cup of tea.” It wasn’t a question. “One will be prepared for you at once.”

The Bill of this dimension jumped to life at his words. With a snap of his fingers, he conjured up a shimmering azure teapot and a cup with a very familiar design; Ford felt a small jab of nostalgia as the cup swirled down in front of him, the pot filling it to the brim before disappearing with a blink of the eye carved into its side.

The light that had resided in the other Bill’s eye for mere seconds faded along with the teapot, and his arms slumped down to take a weak grip on his cane as he returned to his lifeless, puppet-like state.

Ford gulped down the lump of conflicting emotions creeping up his throat and glanced at his other self as he sat down on the chair addressed to him. “I mean no offense”, he said cautiously, “but being – well – myself, I am sure you realize that I –“

“You wish to check the tea for poison.” His host gave him a small, unfeeling smile. “Understandable. It is one of our fundamental principles while visiting a strange dimension. Please, go ahead.”

Ford reached for his breast pocket and pulled out a small device; it resembled a Swiss Army knife that consisted of small spoons. One by one, he dipped the spoons in his tea, inspecting them carefully for even the slightest change in their color and texture.

“You know as well as I do that you’re merely putting on a show to assert even a shade of control over your position, as nonexistent as it is.” He didn’t raise his gaze from the teacup as he heard his other self speak. “Your technology is severely outdated, and I could have easily developed a substance you cannot detect for the sole purpose of poisoning you upon your arrival.”

“I am aware of that”, Ford muttered, “but it would be foolish of me not to take at least the minimal precautions I am allowed.”

“I suppose you’re right. It makes one wonder why I would go to such great lengths to take your life through infantile deceit when I hold nearly limitless power in my hands. It almost reminds you of a mutual acquaintance of ours, don’t you think?”

Ford frowned, but didn’t answer.

“Sure it does, old chap! What’s the fun in the sweet embrace of death without a surprise factor? Better be subtle when you give that mortality a little kick in the right direction, am I right?”

The toxin detector fell on the table with a clatter as Ford raised his eyes from the teacup with a violent start. He stared cluelessly at the vile imitation of a smile on his counterpart’s face, the sudden distortion from his usual deep voice to a disturbingly high-pitched note still ringing in his ears like an insult spat on his face.

What on Earth?

The other Ford’s tense grin broke down and melted into an awkward rush of laughter. “I apologize”, he then said softly, his voice having returned back to normal. “I can no longer hear his voice in my head, so these ludicrous imitations are the only substitute I have left. It is a work in progress… so to speak.” His gaze wandered off, and for a moment he seemed completely lost, unaware of himself and his surroundings.

Ford let his stare sink back into his teacup. _I can no longer hear his voice in my head…_ He was vividly reminded of what had happened in the cave after Dipper had escaped with Bill, and a numbing shudder surged through his body. Once again, he found himself devastated at how much he could see of the path that led to the man he was facing in that of his own, and it made him sick to his stomach.

Slowly, his eyes shifted to the broken mirror image of the demon he’d bound to himself. They were different… This was the difference between him and his deranged self.

He swallowed weakly. “What… did you do to him?”

The Ford of this dimension raised his own cup to his lips and sipped his tea in silence. Had Ford glanced at the other Bill, he would’ve seen him imitate his master’s actions in a mechanically similar manner. “His current state is a direct cause of his own reckless actions and neglect. He can only blame himself… That being said, he is no longer in a condition to put the blame on anyone. A first for everything, I suppose… although I doubt he ever had any capability of true remorse to begin with.”

He let out a dry laugh that died before it had fully left his lungs. “Tell me, Stanford”, he then said, fixing his eyes on Ford with a vacant, almost peaceful smile. “Do you know what happened to him when he first entered the physical realm at the dawn of Weirdmageddon?”

“I…” Ford answered his gaze, relieved that his host’s words were finally taking a direction he was able to follow. “I am not sure what you’re referring to.”

“Bill Cipher was never a part of our plane of existence. Since the beginning, he was a being beyond the limitations of time and space, omnipresent in his ability to see every dimension and timeline, both of the past and of the future. All through his shared history with humans, he could only interact with us through our minds, never anchoring himself to a particular time and place in the physical plane. You, me – him –” he gave a short nod towards Dipper, “– as well as every other physical being… We have our respective counterparts in every timeline. Divided by our individual fates, we are all many… whereas there only ever was one Bill Cipher.”

“That is…” Ford muttered, “…until Weirdmageddon.”

The other Ford nodded and closed his eyes. “Yes. The moment he merged with the physical plane, his being started dividing rapidly with every passing moment, every timeline branching from the different possible outcomes of his every single action and interaction with his surroundings. His omnipresence became multipresence; his consciousness was no longer one singular unity, and his essence as the all-seeing eye was compromised.”

“I see”, Ford mused with a burrowed brow. “He could no longer observe the timelines that had already branched out in the past… only those of the present and future. I’ve always wondered why he took such extensive and completely unnecessary gambles during Weirdmageddon. It sounds like he could no longer calculate the risks according to each and every timeline where things did not go as he had planned. What an utterly fascinating discovery…”

The man facing him nodded and took another sip of his tea – again, followed suit by the mauled demon. “Bill Cipher as both you and I knew him in the distant past no longer exists. He may still assert his omniscience, but that is simply because he does not know any better.” The corner of his mouth twisted up in an ironic manner. “In his current state of being, he is just like the rest of us… assuming we know everything simply because we are unaware of just how little we know.”

An unhappy sound that vaguely resembled a growl could be heard from Bill’s end of the table. Ford raised an eyebrow as he looked at his captive; judging from the lack of response from their host, it looked like Bill wasn’t forbidden from speaking, or at least tonally expressing himself, after all.

The other Stanford had turned to look at his own Bill. For a long while, he seemed to be completely absorbed by the sight of him, having forgotten the others’ presence. Eventually he snapped out of it with a  barely noticeable start. He sighed. “Now, as for your question… You know how, upon entering the physical plane, Bill also obtained an all-powerful, nearly godlike position in our realm. He had the very concepts of time and space in his hands, all his to play with. There was nothing he couldn’t achieve or do… or, if needed be, undo.”

Ford nodded.

“In theory, that is.”

…Of course. A sudden bad feeling twisted his insides. “Causality”, he said slowly.

“That is correct”, his other self confirmed in a wearied tone. “He was intoxicated with power, and blinded by his delusions of grandeur. And yet, as much as I wish to call him out for his own shortsighted foolishness, it is… causality is something he had no control over. Up until the moment of his rebirth in our realm, his actions only ever had indirect consequences.  He could merely influence, not inflict. He had to learn the repercussions of his deeds in the cruelest way possible.”

“What happened?” Ford asked, already afraid of what he would learn.

Another long silence followed. “I never thought I would say this”, his double then heaved, his voice suddenly thick, “but in his defense, Bill Cipher never intended to kill.”

“No.”

Ford felt like he had been hit in the abdomen with a hammer. This was it. The _‘what if’_ scenario he’d feared the most. What he’d always feared the most… ever since that day. “No, no, no…”

He could no longer stop the pieces from assembling in his mind. Of course… This explained everything. Every single road that had swerved to the wrong direction, every monstrosity his unhinged counterpart had committed. If he’d… experienced the same… even he would…

“In the end, the concept of death was beyond his understanding”, the other Ford continued, his voice now steady but oddly subdued, like a half of his breath was refusing to leave his lungs. “He thought bringing her back to life would be as easy as turning back the clock. In most timelines, it truly was that simple. This one…” He looked away. “Of all timelines, it just happened to be this one”, he whispered. “It had to be him… It had to be me.”

Ford inhaled a shaky breath that made his entire body ache. According to the rule of Multiversal causality, one timeline must always be born where the assumed causalities do not apply. In the branching of every possible outcome, there will always be at least one timeline where the course of events will be determined by an accident, or perhaps a hasty decision…

And when that timeline starts branching on its own, one outcome is bound to become the worst case scenario.

This was the dimension where Bill tried to turn back time, but couldn’t.

Ford stared at his palms, unable to see anything. “Mabel“, he breathed out almost noiselessly. “Mabel – she’s –“

On the other end of the table, Dipper let out a quiet whimper he’d clearly been desperate to hold back.

Ford squeezed his eyes shut. He had to remain calm. His Mabel was alive and well. But how could he disregard the unimaginable torment of this man whose past was – up to a certain, fateful, harrowingly definitive point – the living image of his? How could he overlook this when, by a mere chance of ill fortune, the same could as well have happened to himself?

It was almost as though the nightmare of what could’ve been, one he’d refused to let into his mind for so long, had taken the form of a carbon copy of himself and was now staring deep into his soul from the opposite side of the table, demanding to be acknowledged as a reality equal to his own.

He wanted to apologize, to take the blame for the inevitable existence of this timeline, to beg for his other self’s forgiveness. His guilt was as mindless as this world without Mabel must’ve been, and he couldn’t bear to even think about it.

“He… he tried to save her”, he suddenly found himself stammering. How ridiculous was it to cling onto something so insignificant? He turned to face Bill, whose eye was widened with an unreadable emotion – perhaps anger. “Bill, you…”

“No.” The sudden sharpness of the other man’s tone startled him out of his disoriented state of mind. “Do not let sentimentality cloud your judgment. He may never have intended to cause her death, but his attempts of turning back time served one purpose only: to prove that he was right. I have confronted him upon this matter for countless times. He does not believe he ever made a mistake… He’d rather brand the rest of the world defective than admit fault in his own deeds.”

“Okay, buddy, you’ve already shot one messenger here”, Bill put in dryly. “Not my fault that your reality happened to be the Multiverse’s scapegoat. You’d be better off blaming all the black cats that ever chanced to cross your path.”

“He’s… he’s right to assert that, is he not?” Ford tried; for once, he felt like the demon’s snarky remarks had some truth in them. “In this particular timeline, it was inevitable. There is no way he could’ve foreseen –“

_“He killed my grand niece in front of me and my family!”_

The other leapt up with so much force that Ford leant instinctively back in his chair and felt his body tense in preparation for an escape.

“I understand that”, he said with a low, trembling voice, “more than I want to. However, I ask you to not approach me any further. You know what will happen to this dimension if you and I make physical contact.”

The storm in his double’s eyes told him he’d stepped over a line he wasn’t allowed to cross; but before any more threats, wordless or otherwise, were exchanged between the two of them, Ford’s attention was all but violently drawn to what was happening in the sky above them. Something huge – something _colossal_ – was crouching high above the Mystery Shack, clawing at what appeared to be an invisible dome spreading all over them. The creature’s talons ignited sparks along the dome’s surface, causing distant, subdued screeching sounds that sent shivers down Ford’s spine and created faint ripples in his tea.

“In this dimension, Gravity Falls is already under attack”, his other self stated calmly, his sudden fury vanished without a trace as he sat back down on his chair. “In all likeliness, the rest of this town is already demolished at the superanomalies’ mercy, or complete lack thereof. There should be nothing left outside the protective dome I’ve set up around this house.”

Ford paled. He glanced quickly at Bill, who answered with a vicious, piercing glare.

“Skittish, much?” he hissed. “Oh, don’t worry, my old, miserable _liar_ of a friend. Your lookalike here was kind enough to tell me everything _,_ all the way down to a tee. Something rotten in Hickville, I hear? And you need your old pal Bill to set it all straight… Well, well, well. Doesn’t exactly ring true to what you said about me being ‘worthless’, _now does it?_ ”

Ford’s hands felt cold. The truth was out… He’d lost the only upper hand he ever had on Bill.

Swallowing thickly, he turned back to his parallel self. “I want answers”, he demanded. “How did it come to this? What do you want with the Swaven? What do you want with _me?_ ”

Letting his gaze down on the twelve fingers resting crossed on the table, the Ford of this dimension closed his eyes and began to talk.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“One would think… that the life I’ve led would’ve prepared me for something like this. My exceptional intellect, my advanced age… The countless worlds I have seen, each mirroring the other in the most whimsical of ways…” The man’s empty eyes stared at the skeleton of a house behind them. “The truth is… I’ve grown to regret everything. I should have never returned to Gravity Falls.”

“After she was…” He gulped before continuing with a steadier voice. “After what happened, the course of events that followed was similar to what you witnessed in your own dimension… well, more or less. Stanley was the one to regain his emotional sobriety enough to continue our ruse to defeat Cipher, who, at this point, had grown frustrated and impatient due to the failure of his powers. He was careless, moody and even more impulsive than usual… which is likely to be the only reason for why our plan succeeded.”

He shook his head slowly. “Thinking back on it, our survival was nothing short of a miracle. Neither of us could bother to act like the other anymore. Stanley even went as far as calling me Sixer mere seconds before he nearly crushed Bill’s fingers, refusing to let go until it was all over. Crazed with grief, he practically forced the demon into his mind. After which… I pulled the trigger.”

“I did not hesitate in the slightest. I thought it was an act of mercy… As his last deed before Bill took over his mind, Stanley asked… no, begged me to make him forget it all. Not just the past summer, but everything that could ever take him back to that moment. I cannot say I wasn’t envious of his position at the time.”

“The memory gun's effect depends largely on how much the target is willing to forget. If they wish to hold onto their memories, it will leave traces to your cognition that, with proper stimuli, can later be used to recover what was lost. I believe this was how your brother was able to regain his identity. In his last moments, he finally found himself something worth holding onto.”

Ford couldn’t bear to give another look at the empty eyes of the wheelchaired man.

“It goes without saying that my brother did not have such an revelation before his demise. If a targeted mind is actively pushing the memories away at the time of their removal, the memory gun will severely damage cognition itself. The gradual mental corrosion of the gun’s inventor himself is a fine example of this.”

“By the time Weirdmageddon ended, all that had been Stanley Pines was gone with no hope of return. I carried the girl’s lifeless corpse from the forest. I left her in Mason’s care in the Mystery Shack and went back to collect the still living corpse of my own twin brother.”

“However, shortly after the end of Weirdmageddon…” he swallowed thickly. “Right before the… funeral service, to be precise… I discovered that Fiddleford, too, had been able to regain his memories after decades of being lost. How was this possible? I came to the conclusion that using a powerful external stimulus containing raw memory data, such as the canisters Fiddleford’s society used to store an individual’s removed memories, even cognitive damage could be repaired with time and gradual refamiliarization of the data. To my luck, such a container – or rather, a being capable of storing and processing raw data of the mind – had been in contact with Stanley’s memories moments before his demise.”

“Bill”, Ford breathed out.

“On the night of the funeral, Mason and I got into a fierce argument… our first of the many to come. I told him of my plan to bring Stanley back to us, and he was not happy with it. He’s gone, he said. You can’t bring back the dead. Let him rest. It was his final wish. These were the words of my great nephew, a young genius in the making whom I’d grown so fond of in the mere few weeks we’d known... He was the only family I had left, and he told me to give up on my brother – my own brother, who had worked relentlessly for thirty years to bring me back to this dimension. Can you imagine that?”

“So I began my work on my own... well, almost. I contacted Rick Sanchez the very next day after the funeral. Much to my chagrin, he largely agreed with Mason. He told me Stanley was a goner, and that I should move on with my life. In addition to that, he offered me a most precarious solution.”

“What was it?” asked Ford.

“He suggested that I dive back into the Multiverse, replace my alternate self in another dimension and take over the life I deserve, surrounded by my newly found family… as though nothing ever happened.”

“I could not agree with this scenario. I suppose I had some of my moral integrity left in me at the time… I also still held a certain level of parental fondness towards Mason despite our disagreements, and I could not bear the thought of leaving him in this dimension, all alone without his twin sister. So I declined. In my later endeavors, however, I recalled Rick’s proposition and harnessed it for, well… other purposes.”

Ford shuddered at the reminder of how many of his other counterparts had been killed, how many worlds destroyed and innocent lives taken along with them.

“I must say that I am grateful for Rick’s moral ambiguity; he may have frowned upon my motives, but he showed no reluctance when I asked him to help me with the process. He provided me with the spell for the Blood Chains. As the night of the demon’s resurrection arrived, I performed the incantation alone in my bunker. It did not go as planned.”

He paused as if holding onto a thought and turned his wandering eyes to Ford. "How on Earth did you do it?” he asked. “It might be too late for me to turn from this path, but I need to know."

"What do you mean?"

"How did you break free from your puppet strings? In the past, Bill bore witness to the depths of your mind, leaving no stone unturned – memories, fears, weaknesses. He knows you better than any other living soul. What changed you so much that he can no longer take advantage of his past grip on the very essence of you?"

Ford was quiet; he thought of all he'd experienced after Bill's betrayal, every lesson learned, every hurt overcome. "I... I do not think I've changed all that much”, he then said slowly. “Bill knows me. I know him. We face one another as equals, and know exactly how to play by the rules imposed by the other. That is all."

There was an odd look on the other Ford’s face as he eyed his counterpart, almost as if he was holding back a bitter smile.

His silence unnerved Ford. “What happened between you and Bill?” he pressed on, hoping to finally get an explanation to the other Bill’s miserable condition.

“As you can probably imagine, our first encounter resurfaced very unpleasant memories of the events of Weirdmageddon on both sides. Bill, as usual, was fast to turn to mockery and verbal abuse. He said… very hurtful things about Stanley. If I had any holdbacks as to how far I was willing to go with my means of overpowering him, by the time he finished his spiteful tirade, they were long gone.”

“I restrained him through rather violent means and tried to blackmail him into handing his data of Stanley over to me. Naturally, he refused, so I attempted to invade his mind with the powers I’d taken possession of. It was a foolish, ill-judged decision that nearly broke us both. Was it not for the metal plate installed in my head, my brain would’ve been burned to a crisp.”

“As apprehensive as I was towards the idea of involving others in my work, I had no choice but to turn to Fiddleford for advice. To my luck, he was more than understanding of my objectives, and agreed to build a machine that would extract the information we needed from Bill and store it into a canister similar to the ones used in a memory gun.“

“For the few months he spent on constructing the machine, everything seemed to be heading to the right direction. I kept Bill caged and locked up in the bunker, only visiting to check on his condition on a daily basis. His desperate attempts to get under my skin through slander and provocation fell to deaf ears; at the time, I had nothing but disregard for him. I was hopeful for the future, and all but excited to take the first decisive step towards Stanley’s recovery.”

“Three days before the machine was finished, Mason came from Piedmont for a visit. The events of Weirdmageddon were still clouding his judgment to a great extent, but to his credit, his original intention was to conciliate with me. He was even willing to discuss whatever options there was left for us in regard to Stanley’s condition.”

“This all changed when he found out I’d brought Bill back to life. We got into yet another argument that quickly escalated out of control, and ended with him nearly assaulting me. His attempt fell short, and he left the Shack on his own accord. Before he walked away, he told me to leave this dimension, take Bill with me and never return.”

Ford could hear Dipper shifting in his chair uncomfortably.

“The memory extraction was an utter failure.”

“When Bill was resurrected, he no longer had direct access to his past limitless knowledge. The data on Stanley was too fragmented to be used for reconstructing an entire identity. But I wasn’t willing to give up just yet. We simply needed more data… more shards of the all-knowing being that used to be Bill Cipher.”

Ford frowned. “Is… that what Bill meant when he begged his other self to ‘fuse’ with him?”

“That is correct. Due to his largely unique essence, Bill does not cause the counterdimensional paradox effect. Instead of disintegrating himself and the dimension around him, he is able to fuse with his alternate selves. It would double his capacity of processing data as well as how much of his past knowledge he could have access to. A simple, harmless procedure… or so I thought at the time.”

“At first, understandably so, Fiddleford was extremely disquieted over the idea of building a new portal for this cause. It took me a full month of relentless convincing, but at last – once I told him I would start working on it with or without his help – he complied on the condition that we keep Bill under our watch at all times. He did not want to risk him getting a hold of me again.”

“The time the construction work required felt insufferably long. Fiddleford’s old distrust in me raised its head with every step we took towards finishing the portal. Bill would no longer speak to me, and his silence was wrecking my nerves. It is uncanny how his mere presence is enough to drown my mind in surging paranoia, regardless of whether he uses his treacherous words or not… My fears slowly began to take the form of an internal monologue, the unceasing sound of his voice in my head, mocking me with visions of everything that could go wrong. Other times the voice would cheer me on, like he’d done in the past… and it frightened me more than anything.”

 “And after the portal was finished…” He flashed a dry smile. “Well, you know the repercussions of my first encounter with an alternate version of myself, so I will spare you the gruesome details.”

“Why kill?” Ford asked weakly. By now, he knew his double’s pain and desperation, but this one fateful turn of events he couldn’t understand. “Why destroy the entire timeline?”

The man closed his eyes. “That is an interesting question. I may have internalized some of Bill’s cruelty and scorn for the mortal struggle, but even so, I do not find it in myself to take pleasure in pointless destruction. I suppose… I felt pity for my alternate self. When I saw the look in his eyes, the same loss I had once felt myself…” Once again, his gaze wandered off to the almost catatonic demon, who took another mechanical sip of his tea. “Perhaps it was the moment I slowly began to understand that without Bill Cipher, there is no Stanford Pines… and never will be.”

 _That is not true._ At that moment, there was nothing Ford wanted more than to deny it. _That isn’t…_

“I did not want to make him go through the same anguish I was, and still am, driven by. And while it was not my motivation at the time, I also eliminated his chances of pursuing me in a futile attempt to retrieve his Bill. Although I admit that it was a rather overscale means of damage control.” His words were followed by another small smile that didn’t have the slightest bit of remorse in it. “One could say it was sheer apathy of emotion. After I’d gotten what I wanted, that dimension simply did not hold any value for me. What is one timeline amongst countless nearly identical others?”

Ford’s fists were shaking. “I… I cannot accept that…”

“I know”, nodded his parallel self. “And that is precisely why you are here.” Ford raised his gaze, but before he could ask what he’d meant by that, the other man continued his story.

“The fusion was more… intense than what I or any of us was prepared for. The amount of energy it unleashed destroyed a significant amount of Fiddleford’s equipment, and Bill… at the time, I shrugged the change in him as passing disorientation. The amount of data on Stanley’s mind still wasn’t adequate, but there were definite signs that we were on the right path. With a few more fusions, we’d be able to activate a full recovery of his mind.”

“From that moment on, I was blinded by my resolve. I only targeted dimensions where two parameters applied: Bill had returned, but for one reason or another, Stanley hadn’t recovered his memories on his own. After the first incident, Rick soon found out what I had done, and the word spread like wildfire all across the timelines at risk of falling under my radar. When I crossed the interdimensional border to collect my next target, I was faced with fully prepared opposition. I had to improvise, and change my plan of action from a quiet hit-and-run method to direct offense. The clash that followed is what caused most of the physical damage you can still see in Bill’s form. Once they fused, they could no longer heal the wounds they’d inflicted on each other.”

“After the second fusion – we had to perform it in the safety of Crash Site Omega to prevent further property damage –  I slowly started to notice that something was off. Bill was too docile, and far too compliant. The complete lack of distrust in his eye as he followed me into the Multiverse is where I should’ve realized my irrevocable mistake… but I was too focused on my mission, too… happy of our seemingly unified objective. I shouldn’t have wanted that… but ever since the girl’s death, I’ve long lost sight of what I want, or what I should want.”

“I spent the next year planning, calculating and misleading my enemies to fully secure my next move. Mason contacted me and told me he would have Stanley legally discharged from my custody. I spitefully told him to give it his best effort. Soon after that, Fiddleford, who had been monitoring the rapidly advancing superanomaly crisis with growing concern, confronted me with a demand that I divert my attention from bringing Stanley back and use the resources I’d achieved to stop the disaster from happening.”

“But I couldn’t wait. After months of intricate planning, I was finally ready to make an attempt for the third fusion. Fiddleford then revealed to me that the fusions had amplified the weirdness magnetism effect to a critical level, and at this rate, it would pull the masses of superanomalies to Gravity Falls at a destructive volume and speed.”

“Just like he’d done in the past, he pleaded me to abandon the project. And just like in the past, I wouldn’t listen. Too much work had gone into this, too much hope only to be rendered futile. I was too close. I told Fiddleford to leave, and swore to myself that I would make my amends with him once Stanley had returned to us and all was well with the world. He was wiser than to oppose me… He feared me, rightfully so, even though he never learned of my deeds on the other side of the portal.”

“My carefully crafted plans had born fruit, and the third expedition was a success. This time I didn’t even need to make physical contact with my other self – Bill fused with his double on the spot, and the eruption of energy that followed was enough on its own to make the dimension collapse around us.”

After a moment of silence, he continued with a voice that was now withered and old. “When he came to it, he didn’t respond to the call of his name. He no longer reacted to any stimuli I could think of. When I commanded him to act through the power of the Blood Chains, he did as I requested and immediately fell back to his trance-like state.”

“As you can see, he hasn’t returned from that state ever since.” Both turned to face the shell of the fractured demon who had once been as full of alert as his counterpart floating next to him, sipping his tea with a seemingly unconcerned stare fixed on the other demon’s cane. “The fusions had an effect neither of us could anticipate. The Bills I collected – including my own – had all developed a mind and memories of their own after their resurrection and consequential separation from their all-knowing essence. The foundation of his personality had been slowly shifting from raw data to individual experiences.”

 _Almost like a human being_ , Ford thought and felt a small shudder in his spine. “And because of that, he…”

“You cannot merge separate minds like raw data”, said his double with a somber smile. “In my fervor, I’d come to think of him as a mere container of information. I may have acquired the data I wanted, but in the process, I broke what was left of Bill Cipher.” He raised his gaze towards the dome surrounding them.

“Furthermore, the data on Stanley I’d gathered at that cost was still not enough. For the first time, the full picture was clear before my eyes. The superanomalies were approaching, and each additional fusion would only steepen the dive to a global catastrophe. Fiddleford had begun to conduct an evacuation on the population of Gravity Falls. The time I had for saving Stanley was slipping through my fingers like sand, and each action I took would wash away what narrowing options I had.”

“One could say that my distress had a silver lining: I was still awake that night, desperately searching for a solution, when I heard noise from the portal room. I rushed in to find Mason trying to deactivate the portal, accompanied by Fiddleford, who had captured Bill in a butterfly net in a clear attempt to hurl him into the portal seconds before its shutdown.”

“I could not allow it. Using Bill’s powers, I attacked them without mercy, severely injuring Mason in the process. Fiddleford escaped with the unconscious teenager before I could do my worst. That was the last I ever saw of them. Without further delay, I set up this dome to keep out any and all intruders who would dare try to disturb my work… whilst hoping it would at least give me a little more time.”

The silence around them felt heavy as lead. Ford glanced at Dipper, who was staring at the ground, pale and wide-eyed.

“And then, as the morning dawned upon me”, said the Ford of this dimension as that same vacant smile made a barely noticeable curve on his lips, “I understood that I could no longer live without Bill. In this ludicrous imitation of life I have led for the past five years, he was all I had left.”

Ford wanted to say something, anything to retort.

“My final act of desperation”, continued his other self, “was an attempt to neutralize, or at least reduce the fusion effect. I turned my scrutiny of Bill’s essence upside down. What makes him individual? What makes him the Bill I know? What is the one personal attribute we always found in common, one shared interest that bridged the gap between my humanity and his omniscience?”

“I don’t –“

“Weirdness”, the other Ford answered on his behalf with a feverish gleam in his eyes. “If I could just extract pure substance of weirdness in a form as concentrated as possible, and inject it into Bill, perhaps… This is where the superanomaly you keep as a pet comes into the picture. It had caught my attention in the timelines I had visited, particularly due to the inexplicable affection Stanley develops towards it despite his amnesia. It seemed oddly appropriate. Since Stanley’s memories were irrelevant this time, to avoid being caught by my pursuers, I decided to fetch the creature from a dimension that was outside my earlier range… Your dimension.”

“What did you do to the Swaven?” Ford asked with a note of caution in his voice. This was it… This is where he had to prepare for negotiation.

“I altered the machine Fiddleford had built for extracting memory data from Bill, and used it on the creature to draw out all superanomalous energy the rift contamination had created in its system. It was a completely harmless procedure… as you can see, it is currently enjoying its freedom in the woods.”

Ford turned to Stan and followed his absent-minded gaze to the edge of the forest; and now he could recognize the Swaven’s silhouette strutting amidst the trees, looking livelier than he’d ever seen it before.

He allowed himself to feel a hint of relief before turning to his other self. “The weirdness extraction”, he said warily. “Did it work?”

“See for yourself.” His double gestured towards his Bill. “That is what I’ve been forcing him to drink this entire time.”

Ford gulped. The teacup on the table was already empty… and there was no sign of change in the triangle demon’s state of alertness.

The silence of the yard settled between them, ending all anticipation for a mutual epiphany.

“Well, then…” The other Ford sighed. “It looks like this was all done in vain. I am sorry you were forced to witness my final failure.”

Ford couldn’t believe his ears. Was this really it? After all was said and done, would he simply let them go?

“That leaves us with two options.”

He tensed up. Of course… This wasn’t over just yet.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked with a clear, assertive tone. It was time to get this over with.

Slowly, the other Ford got up from his seat and walked to the end of the table where Dipper was sitting. Dipper clenched his fists and looked the other way as the man beside him turned to face his lookalike.

“I want you to shake my hand.”

_…what?_

“Th, that’s absurd!” Ford stammered, leaping up from his chair. “You know as well as I do that it would –“

“– kill me”, the other finished his sentence calmly, “destroy this dimension, and put an end to this charade once and for all.” He turned to the captive demon. “Bill, bring the creature back from the forest. Stanley may not be able to recognize it, but… who knows… perhaps its presence will bring him some sense of comfort in his final moments.”

All of a sudden, the silence around them felt suffocating.

“No”, Ford said slowly, shaking his head. “No. I will not… I cannot do that.”

“Quite the opposite, actually. You are the only one who can.”

“That – that is but a cruel lie!” Ford shouted, terror and anger rising in his voice. “Why me? Did you not say that you don’t want your alternate selves to walk the same path as you have? And yet you are forcing me on that very path with your utterly unreasonable request! I can’t possibly go through with your demand, I – I am not _you!_ “

His counterpart laughed. “I don’t believe I need to correct that statement. You and I are the same, and you know it. I, however, am damaged beyond repair. I haven’t been able to trust myself since long… But in the end, I am the only one I can trust to be righteous in the face of my deeds. Who would be better to judge me than an image of myself yet to fall from grace, one that is more myself than I am? That image is you… It has to be you.”

“You said there is another option”, Ford tried desperately.

“Ah… yes.” The man reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small box he placed on the garden table. Dipper’s eyes widened at the sight of the familiar object.

Ford was fast to recognize it as well. “That’s the infinity-sided die”, he said, already regretting ever coming into contact with such a dangerous artefact. “I don’t understand. What good could it possibly do in this situation?”

“You wanted an option, did you not?” said the other coldly. “This is your option. You and I both have sworn to only use it as our last emergency measure. Simply having it in our possession has been an internal game of morality. The time has come for me to end that game. I no longer have anything to lose.”

“What are you suggesting?” Ford hissed through his gritted teeth.

“Roll the die. Willingly, while recognizing the immense risk you take. As you know, the result could be anything between laughably insignificant and mass destruction beyond anyone’s control… or it could be a vanishingly small butterfly effect that could bring about immeasurable anguish and suffering to a thousand strangers, and you would never know. Yet for the rest of your mortal life, whenever you look and see the hardships all living things face, some part in your brain would freeze and think, _‘did I cause this?’”_ He closed his eyes and made a gesture as though he was weighing the die in his palm. “That, as I am sure you understand, is the ultimate price of playing the role of a god.”

As frighteningly true as the man’s words rang, Ford still didn’t understand what he was trying to get at. “If that is the case, how can you call it a solution? How is it even distantly relevant to what is happening now? If I roll the die and nothing happens, will you let us go unharmed?”

“Oh, no”, his double retorted almost cheerfully. “I am merely offering you an option, not a definite solution. If the die does not put an end to this situation in one way or another, we’ll go back to square one… and a simple handshake will be your only way out, as well as mine.”

“Then why use the die in the first place?” Ford shouted. “Why put me through the torture of an utterly futile decision that has less than a minimal chance of making a difference?”

Once again, his parallel self fixed his gaze on the broken demon. “Chaos”, he said quietly, “equals infinity. If you wish to avoid responsibility for the death of this dimension at all costs, yet cannot bear the thought of simply watching it fall apart on its own… I am giving you the opportunity to embrace chaos as the final answer, as so many of us here have done. You cannot calculate the outcome of your actions, and you can’t control it… but the choice is yours, and only yours.”

“You are fully capable of making that choice yourself”, Ford said weakly. “My involvement isn’t necessary in any way.”

“Do you really wish to simply stand back and watch? Would you rather let this deranged mind put the fate of yet another dimension on the line than trust your own judgment?”

“You may be deranged, but I don’t doubt for a second that you still have the power to decide against this madness”, Ford pressed on. “You may not be able to save this dimension, but you can still save yourself. Abandon the planet, abandon this timeline. Heed Rick’s advice and start over. Search for a new beginning.”

“Would you?” asked his other self in a soft tone.

“That is irrelevant”, answered Ford sternly. “I will say this again. _I am not you_.”

There was now a visible shade of disappointed fury in his double’s eyes. The man’s hand reached to grip the backrest of Dipper’s chair in a warning gesture.

“I am getting weary of this pointless debate”, he said, his voice numb with cold. “Shake my hand, or I will hurt the boy.”

Ford flinched, but didn’t move. “This isn’t the way”, he said, “and you know –”

“Great uncle Ford!” His gaze finally met Dipper’s; the boy was trembling from head to toe, but the look in his eyes was clear and fierce as he spoke against the threat towering over him. “Do it! Just shake his hand! He doesn’t deserve a second ch—”

And then his bold statement was drowned under a scream of pain as a torturous wave of electricity racked his body; the other Bill had awakened at his capturer’s command, and a shockwave flowed from him through the six-fingered hands that were holding Dipper against the chair –

_“STOP!”_

Ford realized that he was on his knees, shaking as violently as Dipper as the teen’s body stopped convulsing and collapsed on the ground before his chair.

“He crossed me”, his other self uttered calmly. “Nonetheless, he was speaking the truth... I, indeed, don’t deserve a second chance.“

Ford’s fingers dragged long lines on the ground beneath as they slowly curled into trembling fists.

“I’ll do it”, he managed to breathe out through the excruciating grip of terror in his chest. “I’ll shake your hand. I’ll end this. Please, don’t hurt him.”

He had at least expected some form of gratitude from the other man, but all his surrender received was a bleak, unexpressive smile. “In that case, I ask you to stand up. We must… How was it again? Ah, yes. _‘Face one another as equals’_.”

Slowly, Ford got up on his feet. He could feel Bill’s eye fixed on him as he squeezed his own tightly shut.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and held out his hand.

“That isn’t enough”, he heard the other say. “You should be the one to shake my hand… not the other way around.”

“I have made my initiation”, he answered, opening his eyes to find his double standing now within a short reach from his held out hand. “This is as far as I can go without becoming something other than myself. The final choice is yours. You cannot change that.”

There was nothing but darkness in the other’s eyes as they stared at each other in silence. Slowly, the Ford of this dimension turned his eyes towards the table.

He saw Stanley.

He saw Bill.

A cruel grin – a deathwish longing to be granted – distorted the face Ford could no longer recognize as identical to his.

“It’s a deal.”

The moment a six-fingered hand took a violent grip on its counterpart, he could feel its organic warmth shatter, tearing violently at the physicality keeping it together.

And just like with another fateful handshake in the past, he knew he would never be the same.

“Great uncle Ford! It’s – I can’t – _the chains!_ ”

It took him a second to realize what Dipper was saying, and when he turned around to see Bill reaching towards his already glitching parallel self with a gleam of foolhardy triumph in his eye, he thought that second had been one too many.

His heart stopped, and for a fleeting moment, he wanted to melt away along with the reality around him.

“ _BILL_ –“

“Hahaha! Looks like you won’t be needing _this_ anymore, pal! Winners, keepers!”

Bill swirled the walking cane he’d seized from his steadily disintegrating double with a victorious, nostalgic look in his eye before turning to face Ford with an annoyed frown. “What? Don’t you have more pressing things at hand to focus on, like, uh, _getting us out of here?_ ”

Ford drew in a breath. Of course he wouldn’t try to fuse… Even Bill wasn’t desperate enough to choose self-destruction over captivity.

He shook his head. There was no time for the relief numbing his mind; they had to escape. But first –

He turned to his counterpart, whose form was already turning into an undefined puddle of frizzling molecules. “Where are the girls?” he shouted over the nauseating hum of static.

When his other self spoke, his voice reverberated around them with no body or direction. “Unfortunately I cannot give you that information.”

“What?”

“My time in this world may have ended, but in my dying breath I find in myself one last thing I must ensure: to never let him near Mabel again. The bubble that secures all her needs and wishes with no presence of harm will be my final legacy. She will be safe for the rest of –“

“Did you really think I would just curl up in that lame dream world again? I’m not twelve anymore, mister!”

Mabel’s victorious voice thundered all across the yard as the portal seemed to activate on its own and spat Wendy, Grenda, Candy and Mabel on the glitching lawn of the Mystery Shack.

“See, I told you it would work!”

“Booya! You’re the bomb, Candy!”

“WE’VE GOT BRAINS _AND_ BRAWN!”

“Girls!” Ford exclaimed, taking a hasty step towards the four figures stumbling back on their feet. “ _How_ –“

“That can wait, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel swished him off and slammed her fists together. “Now where is this _other_ Grunkle Ford? Because I’m gonna let him have it!”

Ford placed his hand calmingly on the girl’s arm. “Mabel, there’s… no need for that anymore. He’s…”

He turned to face his other self, whose body was now almost entirely covered with white noise; but his face was still there, frozen with an expression beyond any emotion Ford was able to recognize. His eyes found Mabel, and something behind the cracked glasses shattered and broke.

For the remaining seconds before the static cracks spread from his eyes to cover the rest of his face, there was a hint of a gentle, wearied smile.

And then he was gone.

The moment his form dispersed into crackling electricity before their eyes, the world around them fell mute. Ford knew there was no time to waste. He lunged down to lift Dipper in his arms and shouted noiselessly at Mabel, gesturing towards the portal. He could see Mabel’s eyes widen with fear at the sight of her brother’s condition, but she nodded and waved the other girls to follow her. At Ford’s wordless request, Grenda took an iron grip on the Swaven and wrapped the creature into a surprisingly maternal embrace before following the others.

Ford looked at Bill, who glanced back in an impatient manner, already floating towards the portal with the stolen cane tucked under his arm.

“Let’s go home”, the man whispered into the perfect silence. But Bill had already turned away from him.

After making sure the youth made it safely through the portal, Ford looked back one last time. The sight of his brother sitting alone in a wheelchair, oblivious of the world falling apart around him, still burned in his eyes as he stepped in the kids’ wake into the portal’s swirling light.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Soos rushed down the stairs the moment they could recognize the portal room around them; gravity must’ve reversed again and let the Ramirez know of their arrival. “Mr. Ford!” he yelped, squeezing his fez in his hands. “Dudes! It’s so good to see you’re back! And you brought back the big bird, too! That’s – that’s great…”

“The mission was a success”, Ford confirmed with a tame smile that didn’t have a hint of victory in it. “The Swaven is rescued, and the transdimensional threat of my parallel self is eliminated… But not before he could assault Dipper. He needs to be taken to the hospital at once.” He glanced around. Something was off with the room’s atmosphere.

“Where’s Stanley? I’ve no doubt he wants to see the Swaven safe and sound.”

Soos took a step back, suddenly avoiding his gaze. The fez was squeezed into a comfortless bundle in his hands.

“Soos”, Ford said slowly. “Where is Stanley?”

 


	17. Arc II | Entry No. 17

* * *

 

 

 

_Entry No. 17._

_From this day on, everything will be different._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

”…and it was totally awesome!”

“Yeah, and once Dipper was in the bubble, he could no longer get out, even though he wasn’t even the real deal –“

“Man, that bubble was lousy work, I’ll tell you that.“

“– so with his help, I recalibrated the compass to point to where the real Dipper is – we used his fake self as a coordinate, it’s pretty complicated.”

“Anyway, since Dipper was technically in two places at the same time, I think it created, like, a paradox or something? One side of the bubble started warping like it was throwing a personal rave party, and then this rift appeared, and we were like, ‘oh, what the hell’ and jumped right into it! We had to drag Mabel with us, she got all weird when the fake Dipper had to be left behind so the paradox wouldn’t, uh, stop paradoxing.”

“Okay, dudes”, Soos put in with an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you guys kicked the butt of the whole universe and stuff. But could you slow down a little? This is a lot to take in for, uh, Soos.” But his quick side glance at the look of confusion on Stan’s face gave away that he wasn’t actually referring to himself.

“Yeah, sure! There’s not much left to tell, anyway”, nodded Wendy.

“We ended up in a paradox dimension that was nowhere in particular”, Candy continued explaining. “And unlike the bubble, it wanted to get rid of us as soon as possible. All we needed was something to trigger the compass, like Dipper’s voice or something. We just walked around and waited for a long time, but then it finally started working again, and the paradox dimension was helpful enough to create a doorway to where it was taking us. But since Dipper wasn’t with us anymore, we didn’t have access to the other side… We had to be invited, in a way. Then the other Dr. Pines called out Mabel’s name, and boom! The portal sucked us in. The rest is history”, she ended in a classy manner.

“I just wish we could’ve gotten out of there sooner”, said Mabel and averted her eyes saddened with guilt. “It’s all my fault. I was so furious at Dipper, I couldn’t stop yelling at his image even though I knew it wasn’t actually him, and then he had to stay and I almost stayed with him…”

“Oh, yeah”, Stan said, perking up suddenly, “sure, I remember that. That knucklehead got one hell of an earful! No wonder he ended up in the hospital, hah…”

An uncomfortable silence followed his words.

“Grunkle Stan, you… weren’t there”, Mabel muttered cautiously.

“What? Oh.” Stan scratched his head. “Well, you got me.”

“Stanley.” Ford leaned forward to squeeze his brother’s shoulder. “It is quite all right even if you don’t remember. We don’t expect that from you.”

“I know, I know”, Stan swished him off grumpily. “I do wanna hear about your, uh, space adventure or whatever, but it’s like I can’t even keep up with what you’re saying. I don’t know who did what and when. It’s like everyone was in ten different places at the same time. Ugh, nothing makes sense.” He clutched at his temple in a tired, frustrated manner.

Wendy, who was leaning against the end of Stan’s hospital bed, smiled. “Well, think about it this way. However we got out of the bubble and made it back here is not important. What matters is we did it together, as a team – a pretty hardcore one, if I may say so myself. When Dipper left, everything seemed hopeless for a while, even more so when we found ourselves trapped in that bubble. But then we put our brilliant heads together and kicked some serious prison ass! The point is we got you, Mr. P, even when you don’t. We’re a team.”

“Yeah… guess you’re right, Corduroy.” Stan smiled, but the disoriented look in his eyes didn’t fade. “Hey, where is the kid, anyway? Still on the run?”

“He’s in this very hospital, Stanley”, Ford said slowly. This was the third time he had to tell this to his brother, but he couldn’t let his smile waver. “They are checking on his physical condition in the other wing as we speak. Once they have confirmed the electrocution has caused no –“

“Whoa, hold on, the electro- _what_ now?”

“– severe cardiac damage, he will be transferred here, to the neurology ward. I have arranged it so that he will accommodate the same room as you, so you can be in each other’s company.” He raised his gaze to meet his brother’s. “You heard me right. He was tortured with electricity.”

“But wasn’t that you?” asked Stan with a confused frown.

“Well, technically yes, since it was my other –“ Ford paused and shook his head. “No. The one who tortured Dipper was not me.”

“I know that, genius. What I meant is you’re the one who was tortured by that three-sided lunatic.”

“That…” Ford gulped, “was nearly five years ago.”

Another silence; another subdued “oh”.

Mabel stood up. “I’m going to see Dipper”, she muttered with a barely noticeable tremble in her voice.

“Oh, good call. I’m coming with”, said Wendy immediately. “Gotta make sure that brat won’t go gun crazy again on hospital premises. Yeesh.”

“Don’t worry, the death ray has returned to its owner”, Candy pointed out and patted her pocket. Grenda, who had been asked to not raise her voice to uncontrollable levels in a hospital, nodded in agreement beside her. 

“Yeah, dogs”, Soos agreed. “And he did say he was sorry seventeen times on our way here. I think he’s pretty much back to normal.”

Wendy crossed her arms and blew a nonexistent tuft of hair off her face out of a habit. “Whatever, man. Yeah, maybe he’s come to his senses enough to regret everything by now, but it’s gonna take a whole lot more to make me not watch him like a hawk at all times from now on. And here I thought he was all grown up.”

“He is safe now”, Ford said quietly, “and that is all that matters.”

Mabel marched out of the room without saying another word. Ford got up from his chair, mouthed “I’ll be right back” to Stanley and went after his niece, the three other girls and Soos following suit.

“Mabel?”

To his relief, the girl didn’t need more convincing to stop still. She gestured the others to go on without her and, after receiving four nods for an answer, she remained in the middle of the hallway, keeping her eyes averted from the man she was facing and wringing the hem of her sweater in her hands.

Both were quiet for a long while.

“Wendy is right”, said Ford at last. “The situation isn’t as bad as might look at a first glance. Even at this moment, Stanley is surrounded by his family and friends, all of them ready and willing to take any means necessary to keep him safe and happy. He is in good –“

“You said that about Dipper, too”, Mabel muttered, “and he was kidnapped and tortured.”

“Well, I…”

“It’s like you’re expecting things to turn out the best possible way”, she continued over him, anger now clear in her eyes as she turned them to Ford, “but it’s _always_ the worst. Everything gets out of hand, and t-there’s nothing we can do…”

Ford was speechless. This was the last thing he expected Mabel, of all people, to confront him with. “Hope is all I have, Mabel”, he said weakly. “Are you telling me we should abandon hope and stop trying altogether? What else is there left for us to do?”

“I… I don’t know”, the girl griped. “I just don’t want to… cling onto it if it turns out to be false… You heard the doctor, this… this isn’t like our first summer here… Grunkle Stan is f-fading away, and my scrapbooks won’t do a thing to help him. I-it’s all useless, he’s just going to…”

With three steps, Ford closed the distance between them and wrapped the girl into a tight embrace, and was relieved to feel two smaller hands clutching onto the back of his sweater. Mabel’s entire body was trembling and twitching with noiseless sobs she refused to let out; Ford could feel his own eyes burn with tears he was holding back just as stubbornly.

“I’m so scared, Grunkle Ford”, she wailed quietly once she’d calmed down enough to speak. “I was scared when Dipper started acting weird, but this is s-so much worse… And we don’t know if he’s okay, either… What if the electric shocks were too much for his brain, w-what if he starts forgetting too? What if everything just… falls apart? I feel like this is my fault, I should’ve never applied to the art school –”

“Not another word of that, Mabel.” Ford pulled back enough to look the teen in her teary eyes, and placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders. “No one is to blame for this. If there is anything I learned from the gruesome fate of my parallel self, it is that looking for culprits when there are none serves no purpose other than strengthening our own incapability to accept things as they are. We need to accept it. That is all we can do.”

“I… I don’t think I can”, Mabel muttered.

“I know that is how you must feel right now. It will get better, I promise.” Ford managed to smile a bit as he reached to wipe the trails of tears off Mabel’s cheeks. “What comes to Dipper, I ask you not to worry too much. I am fairly certain the electrocution did not damage his brain or heart, and the hospital is simply ruling everything out and taking precautionary measures as per their protocol.”

Mabel sniffled. “Really?”

“Really”, nodded Ford. “The amount of volts Bill used is not fatal. I… have been there myself, and I survived with a few scars. A young and rigorous boy such as Dipper should be all right.”

“But he was weird on our way here… He kept throwing up and, and repeating things…”

“Violent nausea is the most common symptom in the aftermath of receiving an electric shock.  And”, the man let out a short laugh, “I think the profuse apologies were simply Dipper’s way of expressing how truly sorry he is for his actions. If anything, it should be a good sign.”

“Yeah… Maybe you’re right.” Mabel smiled cautiously. “I should go see him.”

Ford nodded. “Send him my regards. I will visit him shortly… after I’ve spoken with Stanley.”

“Okay.” After a second of hesitation, Mabel threw herself back into his arms. “I’m sorry about what I said in the cave”, she whispered.

“There is no need to apologize”, Ford said quietly, despite the memory of the girl’s harsh words making his chest ache. “You were right. Had I not preached all that paranoid nonsense in my journals after Bill’s betrayal, perhaps Dipper would’ve never… Well, it is no use to wonder what could’ve been. I have learned my lesson, and that should be enough.”

“Yeah”, he heard Mabel say against his sweater. “Thanks, Grunkle Ford.”

They exchanged a last tearful smile and parted ways. Ford went back to his brother’s room with his heart perhaps heavier than before his conversation with Mabel.

“Whoa, look at you”, Stan commented his bleak expression. “It’s like the world is ending, heh. Come on, bro, you better not steal my role as the grumpy one. High six?” he then asked hopefully, holding up his hand.

Ford smiled. “Stanley, we’re not children anymore.” Nevertheless, the grin on Stan’s face as he shrugged and threw his hand against the five-fingered one was worth the hint of embarrassment it caused.

“She okay?”

“Mabel? She is… well, what happened to her brother has most certainly upset her. She will be all right… as long as she knows Dipper will be as well.”

“Uh, yeah… sure. So, Dipper… he, uh…”

Ford watched the poorly covered struggle in his brother’s expression. “You don’t remember what happened to him, do you?” he asked quietly.

Stan’s shoulders slumped. “Nope”, he huffed. “Not one damn thing. I have a feeling you’ve told me several times already, but it just… It doesn’t stick, you know? Look, I’m really –“

“There is no need for you to apologize”, Ford said immediately. “I will tell you as many times as needed. During our expedition to another dimension, Dipper was –“

“Hold it, brother.” It was Stan’s turn to interrupt. “There’s no point. I’m just gonna forget anyway, so… At least I’m on the map enough to know that something happened to him, and Mabel is upset because of it. Let’s go with that, okay? The doc told me I shouldn’t put too much effort into trying to remember the details, it’s just gonna… make this worse over time.”

“Oh, right… certainly. Whatever is best for you.”

A silence fell between them. Through the door Ford had left slightly open, they could hear a hoarse voice calling for a nurse in the corridor.

“So… Alzheimer’s, huh?” Stan gulped. Judging from the sound of it, the man had caught the nurse’s attention and was being guided back to his own room that was just a few steps away. “Grauntie Jems got a pretty bad case of that towards the end, remember? Boy… She was a mess. Wonder how long it’s gonna take for me to end up like her or the geezer outside.”

Ford raised his gaze from the floor. He wanted to answer with a sharp note of certainty, even anger, but he couldn’t find it in himself. “Stanley, every case is individual and can differ from one another like night and day. There is no reason to assume you would…”

Stan raised a hand to silence him. “Okay, Poindexter, honest talk. You spoke with the doctor, so you know more than me.” He drew breath. “How much time do I have?”

No matter how much Ford wanted to turn away, he forced himself to look Stan directly in the eyes. He didn’t see the same fear and helplessness he felt choking the words in his throat.

“Seven or eight years”, he said with a voice he was struggling to recognize as his own. “Perhaps ten… if we’re lucky. Be that as it may, your memory will begin to corrode rapidly in less than five years. It… it is likely that your body will last longer than your mind.”

Sudden anger at his own words burned his insides. Was it really necessary for Stanley to know all this? Was it necessary for _him_ to know all this? He did not want to know. He didn’t want to see his brother as a ‘case’. He’d received all the advice and information he needed to deal with Stan’s condition and make his life as relatively normal as possible under the current and future circumstances, so why… did he need to know how this would end?

Stan’s eyes seemed oddly glazed as he stared ahead. “Huh”, he said at last. “Well… Could be worse, am I right?”

Ford raised his eyes, surprised. “What do you mean?” he asked despite himself. He knew it could be worse, so much worse… he’d seen it himself, in a distorted image of what his life could’ve been.

“Well, it’s better than three months in a Colombian jail, for one thing… or a year trying to hide from that huge dun who probably could’ve crushed my skull with his bare hands…” He grimaced. “Ugh, wouldn’t mind forgetting that ugly mug. But hey, five years is still five more years with you and the knuckleheads. I still get to see my little namesake learn to talk, too... and maybe teach him a couple of swear words to remember his Grunkle Stan by.”

 “I suppose that is one way to look at it”, Ford said slowly, unsurely. “We don’t know how fast your condition will… What I mean is it is quite possible that your mind remains perfectly sharp and coherent for a long time still, with mere small lapses every now and then. And I…”

His hands clenched into fists as his mind wandered back to the terror-filled moments before their return to this dimension. He had revolted against his other self’s resolve to tear down the entire dimension along with his deathwish right until the end, but now… Looking in his brother’s eyes, he was starting to feel like it had been for the best. _That reality didn_ _’t deserve to exist._

“I will not confuse you with the details of our interdimensional expedition”, he said, “but during our trip, I was… forced to witness a scenario where I had already lost everything. After that, this is…”

“Yeah”, Stanley nodded. “Yeah, I think I can get behind that. I’ll take this before being as useless as I was back whenever. At least I was able to bring you back. Not much can faze me after that. And hey, when I eventually turn into a vegetable, you can make me part of the business, you know, put me on the deck of the Stan-O-War II and dress me in some stupid sailor costume. Heh, bet Mabel would like that.”

“You mean the Stan-O-War III”, Ford corrected out of habit before he could stop himself, and winced. “I… I apologize.”

“Eh, no need”, Stan said with a shrug. “The guideline was to not make me wreck my brain over details, but it didn’t say anything about keeping me from looking like a complete idiot.” He glanced at the empty water jug on the table next to his bed. “Uh, could you be a pal and fetch me a soda? And grab a bag of Toffee Peanuts while you’re at it.”

“Of course. Although I doubt they sell Toffee Peanuts anywhere these days.” Ford smiled. “And Stanley, no one would ever think of you as an idiot. You’re the hero of this town, remember?”

“Hah, sure I do. No way I’d ever forget that”, Stan grinned. As Ford got up and headed out, he suddenly spoke again, this time in a bitter tone. “I’ll never forget who did this to me, either.”

Ford stopped still at the doorway and turned around. “What?”

“I said I’ll never forgive that three-sided asswipe for this”, Stan jerked out. “He may be around for the long haul, probably longer than me, but I’m gonna keep reminding him of his deeds until my brain runs out of gas for good.”

“Stanley… what are you saying? Bill has got nothing to do with this”, Ford said with a frown; and yet a terrible doubt was starting to creep into his mind. The demon had almost driven Dipper into a state of madness with his insidious mind games… what if he’d somehow managed do to the same to Stan?

“Yeah, thought you’d defend the bastard”, Stan threw back. “They call you genius this and genius that, but you’re not very bright when it comes to that guy, are ya? I know you’ve got a soft spot for smartasses like yourself. Yeah, maybe I’m missing a memory or two, but there’s nothing off with the ones I _do_ remember. And my last memory before everything went haywire is that bowtie-wearing schmuck walking into my mind uninvited. I’m not stupid enough to not be able to connect the dots here.”

For a long moment, Ford stared at him without saying a word. So this… this was what it was going to be.

“That was five years ago”, he then said quietly, almost cautiously. “It was an entirely different –“

“You can stop right there”, Stan cut him off harshly. “ _I know what I know_ , Ford. And I also know you don’t want conflict in the house, so of course you’d rather make me believe Cipher is innocent, am I right? But I won’t forget. I’m not going to forget, even if you lie straight to my face.”

“I am not lying to you”, Ford tried once more. “Bill is innocent.” For a moment, he hardly believed his own words; it was such a strange thing to try and convince his brother of. “Granted, he played a role in a memory loss you suffered in the past… This time, however, your condition is due to completely natural causes. Alzheimer’s disease is related to neurological changes that come with old age, and…”

“Yeah, right. You just gotta be right about everything, don’t you, Poindexter? Just like old times. But I know what I know, and you can’t change that with your fancy brain talk.” Stan turned to stare stubbornly out of the window. “Just go get that soda.”

Ford left the room in silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Where in fresh hell was Sixer?

Bill glared at the mosaic window that was annoyingly close to his eye. The way its uneven surface distorted the view outside was certainly up his visual alley, but the colored panels were getting on his nerves.

They made no sense. One pinkish patch here, another there, and _circles in squares_ , for Pete’s sake! What was the point of making a mosaic if there was no symmetry in it? This entire house was an architectural mess! He should’ve been there to watch over the construction process from the get-go instead of leaving it to that nerd with no class… For a grown man, and an alleged genius even, he sure needed a whole lot of babysitting!

_Where the hell was he and what was taking him so long?_

Some nerve that fleshbag had to leave Bill alone for the whole night. The demon bristled, glaring at what little he could see of the empty yard through the darkness. He couldn’t sleep, and he was bored to _death_!

…huh.

Death. That wasn’t a card he played too often, even as a figure of speech. _“In the end, the concept of death was beyond his understanding._ _”_ He squinted peevishly. What did that big-headed despot wannabe know about his understanding, anyway? Hah! After sending Shooting Star to her mortal demise in that other timeline, there was plenty he understood, just watch and…

…

Any second now…

He squeezed his eye shut, meditated, waited…

…he didn’t see it.

Bill rubbed his eye. It was that stupid spell, wasn’t it? He couldn’t see squat.

He needed tea.

Grumbling quietly to himself, he floated out of the room and down the staircase. Stupid humans and their stupid stairs… Bill hated stairs. The only thing they were good for was throwing lanky meddling children down them. Hah! Good times. They’d clearly given the title of a genius to the wrong person in this house.

He tried to slam open the door to Question Mark and Momma Toots’ bedroom, but the door was too heavy be slammed. Instead, it creaked open just enough for Bill to slip in.

“Toots”, he snarled. “Make me tea.”

A messy mop of hair peeked out from underneath the blanket. “Do it yourself”, came a snappish hiss. “It’s almost midnight.”

Bill frowned. “I don’t _do_ –“

“Shush! Cups in cupboard, tea on shelf. It’s not that hard. Now get out before you wake up Trevor. Out!”

Bill scowled even deeper, but stayed quiet as Toots drew the blanket over her head again. Well, he didn’t want to wake up the kid, obviously. One Stanford “sleep is for the weak” Pines was enough for this household. Admittedly, heavy insomnia was the closest mortals could get to the delightful madness of the infinite, and Bill wouldn’t mind company in that department… But when you had to deal with it in the boring daily life of these insipid meatsacks, it quickly got annoying.

The quiet grumbling continued as he floated to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe he had to make his tea himself; he _never_ had to make anything himself. But there was no one in the house he could order around. Toots was using Chico as a toddler-shaped shield to avoid responsibilities – good going, Bill had to admit – the gullible ones, Question Mark and Shooting Star, were nowhere to be seen, Pine Tree, even if he was around, would be good for a whole load of nothing, and that _pretentious freak of nature_ was still not back from whatever was so important that he dared leave Bill by himself.

The kitchen was completely dark, so he slammed himself haphazardly into the wall until he hit the light switch. Finding his teacup unwashed in the sink instead of the cupboard did nothing to tame his irritation. So now he had to start washing dishes too? For a moment, he weighed his options. Which was worse, having to stick his hands in this mess or the kid being a bit whinier than normal the next morning – maybe still the day after, or even for the rest of his life?

… _Ugh_.

He had no idea how to do this, so he grabbed the dish soap and poured it everywhere in the sink for good measure. Then… uh… water, probably. He kicked the faucet, also for good measure. Water poured out, hit the dishes in the sink and splashed all around the place.

_UGH._

Bristling with annoyance, he grabbed the dish towel and wiped his surface with it, almost unfastening his bowtie in the process. He kicked the faucet again and reached for the soaked cup. It was still slippery, but Bill didn’t care.

How was he even supposed to make tea with this lackluster human equipment? They had every method of tea brewing recorded in the good old Tea Dimension, so if he just took a peek into what he’d seen back in his all-knowing…

… _come on!_

Once again, Bill flashed his eye open and scowled furiously. Useless! What the hell?

 _“His consciousness was no longer one singular unity, and his essence as the all-seeing eye was compromised._ _”_ So that wasn’t just another derisive lie by Stanford “you’re worthless” Pines after all. Then, how was he supposed to know _anything_?

 _“…from raw data to individual experiences._ _”_

…well, he’d seen Momma Toots boil water in a kettle. At least _that_ he could remember.

After a full span of whatever had passed, he’d finally figured out which switch was connected to each eye of the stove. He glared at the kettle as though blaming it for a lack of proper instructions.

“Guess this is my life now”, he muttered to himself, his tone flattened with boredom.

 Twenty-five more years to go.

Groaning under his breath, he went to the shelves and knocked over half a dozen of seasoning jars while picking his tea. Of course, he opened the package from the wrong end and scattered the dried jasmine blossoms all across the kitchen floor. At least one had landed in his cup.

The water was finally boiling. The kettle was hot and fell over in his burned hands. _Of course_. Well, some of the water had hit where it was supposed to go, so maybe he would finally get his cup of…

…

He glared in disgust at the mess in his cup that was one crumbled jasmine blossom, a spoonful of water and an oily ring on the surface that he could only assume was dish soap residue.

“Oh, screw this.”

He swatted the cup and its contents back into the sink, looked around at the mess he’d made and smirked. Nice and slipshod, like a work of art. Someone had to clean this up at some point. Who cares? He hoped it would be Sixer.

The sudden thought of that _unbearable idiot_ of a man made him grab the rim of his hat and wring it with frustration. _Why wasn_ _’t he back yet?_ Stanford “I won’t let you leave” Pines. Well, how about _you_ don’t leave either? Stanford “you are and will be bound to me” Pines… In _what_ way was this being bound to each other?

Well, if _you_ _’re_ not here, I might as well start heeding the helpful advice Toots had given him, right?

 _Get out_ , she’d said. Huffing with anger, he turned on his figurative heels, flew to the hallway and out of the flap door.

He’d get out, all right, just you –

He’d leave this whole –

He was so done with –

 _Damn it_ –

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ford frowned; the monitor around his wrist wouldn’t stop making noise. Was Bill trying to leave the Shack’s vicinity?

He pushed a small button on the monitor’s side that would activate the Blood Chains if the demon tried to move outside a twenty-yard radius from the front door. It would secure the situation for now, but as the beeping sound continued, he soon grew concerned as to what could’ve caused these escape attempts Bill no doubt knew were futile.

“Soos, is there any way we could take a faster route?” he asked quietly, careful not to wake up the girl sleeping against his shoulder. “I think something may be happening at the Mystery Shack. Bill appears to be upset over something, and is trying to leave. I hope it is nothing that involves Melody or the child…”

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Ford”, said Soos from behind the wheel. “If Mr. Bill had set the house on fire or something, I’m sure Mel would’ve called us by now. And anyway, I’ve been thinking about this ever since you guys went to space… What if he doesn’t just want out, what if he wants, you know, _out?_ Like, to explore and stuff. Or maybe he missed you and wanted to follow us to the hospital. Heh.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Missed me?”

“Yeah, dog! I mean, you two have been around each other more or less twenty-four-seven for over a year by now. You know, there was this big spider living in the ceiling of Abuelita’s kitchen back in the day. I was cool with it, didn’t really care one way or the other… until one day it was gone, just like that. I was like, whoa, where did that fat little dude go? It wasn’t like we’d become best bros or anything, but the kitchen just wasn’t the same without it.”

Ford listened to Soos’ absurd comparison with a small smile on his lips. “If that spider had kept you trapped in the house for a year before its disappearance”, he pointed out, “I am quite certain you wouldn’t have missed it in the slightest.”

“No argument there, Mr. Ford!” Soos chortled. “But if it took me to an epic space adventure, I might have to change my mind!”

Ford frowned. The metaphor was getting out of hand. “Soos, let me make clear that Bill isn’t emotionally attached to me in any way”, he started in a strict tone of voice, but was interrupted by a sudden silence from his monitor. “It seems like he’s given up on trying to leave. Is there any way you could drive faster?”

“Sorry, no can do”, Soos said apologetically. “I’m already at the limit here. Abuelita would kill me if I ever got caught speeding.”

Fortunately there was only a five-minute drive left; and when Soos steered El Diablo to the Mystery Shack’s driveway, they were welcomed by an empty yard.

“Bill?” Ford called out, careful not to raise his voice. Mabel was still half asleep as Soos lifted her gently on his shoulders. “Perhaps he has gone back to the house.”

But the inside of the house was similarly quiet and dark, save for the fully lit kitchen. Ford let out a groan of frustration as he saw the mess around the kitchen sink.

“What in the devil has he been doing?”

Soos patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll take Hambone upstairs and help you clean this up”, he promised. “Then we can look for Mr. Bill together. I sure hope he isn’t back in the chimney.”

“Thank you, Soos, but I will take care of this myself. He’s my –“

“None of that, Mr. Ford”, Soos interrupted. “He’s family, and we’re a team. We’re all responsible, and we’re gonna take care of each other from now on, especially now that Mr. Pines…”

He fell quiet. With a sad smile, he turned away and headed upstairs, leaving Ford grateful for a moment of solitude.

Unlike the previous year’s incident of Bill trashing the kitchen in the middle of the night, this time there was no dried dough made of flour and soda spattered everywhere, no abominations nor a full _‘manifesto of madness_ _’_ scribbled on the fridge door with a variety of salad dressings, and the lamp and a half of the ceiling weren’t redecorated with raw pasta and Mabel’s glitter glue; in the end, it took Ford and Soos a relatively short time to clean up the mess Bill had left in his wake.

Ford glanced at his monitor. “He is near, but not near enough for me to activate the Blood Chains… He must be right outside the house.” He turned to Soos. “Thank you for your help. You are certainly right… There are times when I forget what a family truly stands for. We shouldn’t have to carry our burdens alone, and even I… regardless of the immeasurable trouble and chaos I brought into your lives when I resurrected Bill…”

“Hey, now”, Soos smiled. “If we were allergic to trouble and chaos, then Gravity Falls would’ve be the last place for us to settle in, right? Like Abuelita always says, the home is where the heart is, and there’s nothing Mr. Bill can do that would carve our hearts out of this old hut.”

Ford averted his eyes at Soos’ words of encouragement; the painfully vivid memory of the Mystery Shack’s abandoned remains looming behind the garden table was proof that in another time and place, Bill had committed a deed – a mistake – that had done just that.

But Soos would never have to find out about the dimension they’d witnessed… Despite his ever present smile, Ford could see from the shadows under the man’s eyes that Stanley’s current situation was heavy enough for him to bear.

“I don’t think I need to say this, but you’re part of the gang just as much as Mr. Bill, of course… I kinda wish you’d been here when it happened, you know, with Mr. Pines and stuff.” Soos turned his eyes towards the floor beneath his feet. “If he’d seen you, maybe he wouldn’t have thought this was still the time before you came back, or before I was working here, and… so on. The other Mr. Ford had a bad timing for dropping by.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” _Or perhaps seeing my lookalike disappear into the portal was what triggered Stan_ _’s lapse in the first place_ , Ford thought bleakly. He put a hand on Soos’ shoulder. “It has been a long day. You must be as weary as Mabel”, he said. “Please, get the rest you need. I will take this from here.”

“Are you gonna be okay, Mr. Ford?” Soos asked, looking worried. “You need sleep, too. You went straight to the hospital from your space quest… I don’t think you guys had much time to snooze out there.”

Ford smiled. “You would be surprised at how little sleep I need these days. When I was training myself in preparation to confront Bill, I took several classes on how to rest one’s body without sleeping in the Vigilance Dimension… but I digress. I will be fine. Moreover, Bill and I need to talk, and I’d rather do it in the peace and quiet the night allows us.”

“Gotcha”, Soos nodded. “You guys talk as much as you want, but remember that even though you’re metal and all, Mr. Bill isn’t… wait, maybe he is, only literally… So is that stuff gold, or…” He scratched his head and shrugged. “Well, just tuck him in before sunrise, okay?”

“I will make sure he gets the rest he needs”, Ford promised. “Good night, Soos.”

“Night-night, Mr. Ford.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

To Ford’s relief, Bill wasn’t in the chimney. As he stepped outside and circled the house in search of a sign of the demon’s presence, he soon caught sight of a faint glow from the rooftop above the window to the kids’ room. With a sigh, he went to get a ladder (it took him a while to unstrap it from the wall, remove the abundant safety net it was wrapped in and the numerous warning signs of fatal danger Stan had nailed onto it) and climbed up to the roof.

He found Bill resting his back against the roof, his eye wide, gazing at the sky opening above them.

Ford was taken slightly aback by his calmness; he’d expected to find him in a state of panicky rage, or at least sulking and withdrawn. Well, the demon certainly didn’t seem to pay any attention to him as he lay cautiously down beside him and crossed his arms under his head.

Nonetheless, even being disregarded felt oddly soothing. This was the first moment since their return to this dimension when the thought of Stan’s condition didn’t feel like a crushing weight on his mind. Now, his daily worries felt distant, if not meaningless…

He raised his eyes to the stars blazing above the treetops. He hadn’t seen a starry sky this bright since his seafaring days with his brother; and yet it reminded him more of his own Dreamscape on the day he and Bill first met.

They remained quiet for a long time, watching the same vastness that seemed to be surrounding them, almost swallowing them whole, instead of spreading before their eyes countless and countless lightyears away.

All of a sudden, Ford found himself wondering just how different Bill’s way of looking at it could be from his own.

“It is quite a breathtaking view, don’t you think?” he eventually muttered out loud and, unsurprisingly, received no answer. A faint smile rippled on his face as he raised his hand and pointed towards the sky. “Do you see the triangular constellation located west from the Big Dipper? That is William. I suppose it’s no secret that I named it after you…” He cleared his throat. “But I am sure you can see the resemblance. It looks very much like you, doesn’t it?”

Bill scoffed. “By ‘constellation’, do you mean ‘a sad, desperate attempt to see consistency in a chaotic myriad of individual light spots that have no actual relevance with each other whatsoever’? Because _that_ _’s_ what it looks like to me!”

Ford turned to look at the demon’s annoyed frown that had become quite characteristic to him during the past year. “Bill, I am sure you know it is something called cognitive resonance. A logical tendency to find correlation in the unknown through similarities to concepts that are already familiar to you. Every form of intelligence is built upon that very trait… I can only assume that it applies to you as well.”

Bill rolled his eye. “Thanks for the lecture, old man. Now riddle me this: the illusions your limited little mortal mind is blinded with don’t mean jack! There’s no actual correlation, no causation, no correspondence, and the only way to see the bare truth is to embrace the insanity that is a world with no such rules! Just like yours truly did back in my day, thank you very much! You’re welcome to join that ride any of these days, my friend!”

“You…” Something in Bill’s words rang odd to Ford’s ears. It was nothing he’d never heard from the raving maniac of a triangle before, and yet…

Then he realized. “You said ‘back in my day’”, he repeated Bill’s earlier words. “Does that mean there was a time when you weren’t like this?”

“No.”

Ford raised his head. “But”, he tried, “your use of the past tense indicates that your view of the world met a radical change somewhere along the way. You must’ve learned something that –“

“How many times do I need to spell this out for you, Brains?” Bill snapped. “Bill Cipher doesn’t change! _I don_ _’t learn!_ There’s no epiphany here! Only sweet, unending chaos! Just like that faraway puddle of antimatter and slowly disintegrating nonsense you insist on calling the stars!”

Ford turned back to gaze at the sky in silence. To his surprise, he was starting to see a distantly recognizable pattern of meaning in the demon’s words. Did Bill liken himself to something formless and undefined, a collective mistaken for an individual? But if that was the case… why did he have a personality of his own?

 “Bill…” his voice came out so low and quiet it was almost a whisper. “Who are you?”

Bill snorted. “Since you know everything so well, why don’t _you_ tell me?”

“I… I have my guesses in regard to your origins, but they are nothing but speculative hypotheses. They have no value without, well, further confirmation.”

 “Hah! And here I thought you had it all figured out, what with everything you’ve scribbled in that big book of yours! Well, I must admit it wouldn’t hurt to remind you every so often that you’re facing a prime specimen of the triangular master race, just one line away from infinity!”

Ford blinked. Would Bill finally tell him something about his past? “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, IQ”, Bill scoffed with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “It’s not that hard, I thought they teach basic geometry in those schools of yours! Just imagine an empty space and work it up from there. One line? Pointless. Two lines? Getting somewhere, but still no cigar. Three lines? Congrats, buddy, you just created a plane! That’s your old pal Bill right there! No wonder they treat us like kings! Now if only the cubic shapes would stop trying to prove a point, no pun intended, and dividing themselves like complete idiots –“

“Bill”, Ford interrupted. “Please, slow down. The triangular master race? Do you mean the society which you originate from bears no structural resemblance to that of the dimension I visited?”

“The angle alliance, on the other hand, now _those_ guys have the right idea!” Bill continued over him like he hadn’t even heard his question. “The sharper your angles are, the higher up you should be in the pecking order! And that’s why it makes _no damn sense_ ”, suddenly his voice gained even a shriller note than usual, “for circles to be the upper crust! Their angles are so dull you can’t even see them!”

“Wait – but according to your earlier statement, circles were the lowest class of your dimension”, Ford pointed out with a frown, trying to get his head around Bill’s zigzagging course of logic. “You even went as far as calling them ‘no-angle scum’ –“

“ _And that they are!_ But wait, there’s more! You know how many sides they have? Exactly one more than _zero!_ Low class? Hah! More like _no_ class! They don’t even have the right to vote! Even the trampled three-sided lot is better off than those pompous hoops!”

At this point, Ford could no longer find any sense in what Bill was saying. He watched cluelessly as the triangle demon leapt up from his relaxed position, wringing his hands in a state of distress of some kind as he continued shrieking utter nonsense.

“And to top that off, guess what the biggest joke here is? _The outlines!_ If we take out the outlines, we’re all part of the same stupid flat vacuum! Governance is an illusion, and so is freedom!”

“Bill –“

“We’re just concepts, for hell’s sake! _We don_ _’t even have a society! The whole idea is ridiculous!_ ”

“BILL!”

It wasn’t until Ford grabbed Bill’s arms in a rather violent movement that the demon finally snapped out of his frenzy and shot a strange, wide-eyed look at the man.

Ford let go immediately. “I apologize… I did not know what else to do to calm you down”, he muttered.

Bill huffed and threw himself back on the roof, peevishly looking the other way while rubbing his arms where the six-fingered hands had seized him as though by some self-preserving instinct.

Ford watched him in silence; he wanted to understand. For the first time in his life, he truly wanted to understand the all but insane being lying next to him.

“Bill”, he said after a while, “what you just told me… You must realize yourself that none of it makes sense. It was full of blaring contradictions that cannot be shrugged off as language games or semantic tricks.”

Bill glared back at him. “Are you suggesting that I was lying?”

“That… shouldn’t be possible. Unless your alleged inability to lie was also…” Ford shook his head. “No. There is nothing you would gain from it. Were you capable of lying, we would not be in this situation in the first place.”

“Really? How so, Brainiac?”

“Because…” All of a sudden, Ford’s heart felt heavy as lead. “After I found out about your betrayal… had you simply told me Fiddleford was wrong, I… I would’ve followed you to the end of our time. It would’ve been laughably easy for you to continue deceiving me… but you didn’t.”

Bill raised his brow. “A puppet to the core, I see.”

“It is all in the past. I am no longer the young and naïve man I used to be.”

“Then _who_ are you, exactly?” the demon asked in mockery of Ford’s earlier question to him.

Ford gazed into the stars, thinking. “I am Stanford Pines”, he then said slowly, “a brother to Stanley and Sherman Pines, and a great uncle to Mabel and Dipper Pines… A mentor to the latter as a proficient researcher of anomalous phenomena… No longer an interdimensional vagabond, but instead one who finds a home in the town of Gravity Falls. I am also bound to Bill Cipher… you… in my past, present and future. That is how I define myself as I am now.”

“Huh”, uttered Bill with a smirk. “Sounds awfully familiar to that guy you handshook into oblivion a while back. Funny coincidence, am I right?”

Ford glanced at him. His earlier torrent of nonsense wasn’t unlike parallel realities overlapping with one another… No, it couldn’t be. “He told me you were always one.”

“Sure I was”, Bill confirmed breezily. “But nothing is born out of nothing, if you catch my drift.”

Ford squeezed his eyes shut and tried to understand what Bill was implying. He really tried. “I… I’m sorry. I cannot see what you’re getting at.”

Bill groaned. “Some genius we have here, ladies and gentlemen. I literally just told you a triangle is the first shape to make a plane, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but… I can’t see how that is –“

“That, my friend, is the figurative loop I was thrown into! It’s pretty obvious, Occam’s razor and all that! Didn’t have much time to think of a form for myself when I was already stuck with one! And once you have a form, our good old pal commonly known as the Multiverse is already shoving a bajillion pasts for that particular form down your throat!”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand and held up the other as if trying to stop time. “Please… Let me try to catch up on what you’re telling me. You… weren’t born as a triangle, but you took a form of one.”

“As I said, nothing is born out of nothing! Gotta have a form if you wanna be something other than a whole lotta zip!”

“But… before you took a form, what were you?”

Bill winked. “You know how they call me the all-seeing, all-knowing eye? Figure it out from there, kid!”

 _The all-seeing eye_. But no form… “Are you saying you originate from pure knowledge?” Ford asked wide-eyed.

Bill closed his eye and crossed his arms under his top angle. “That’s me! Well, technically any conception of ‘me’ wasn’t a thing just yet! But as it goes, eventually the all-seeing was bound to realize that it had one dead angle in its vision – itself! And it wouldn’t have it, oh no, not a chance! Your mortal curiosity pales in comparison to this old chap, believe me!”

“And the moment knowledge became self-aware… you were born”, Ford mused. Nothing is born out of nothing… “Then how –“

“The Multiverse doesn’t just work its way forward in time, you know!”

“What?”

“Well, if something exists, it has to have a past, right? But one past wasn’t enough. Nope. I was lucky enough to hit the cosmic jackpot… Sort of like your loony timeline twin, now that I think of it. Hah…” The sudden change in Bill’s tone of voice made it clear that whatever had happened, it certainly wasn’t a streak of luck. “See, reverse causality got real busy with your old pal. Every possible scenario that comes with the sudden existence of sentient triangular fellows… Some where they’re the better sorts, others where they’re used as literal doormats, even the ones where we’re all the same and everything is meaningless…” He pointed at his eye. “All in here.”

Struck by a sudden thought, Ford sat up and stared at the demon. “So you… You have the memories of your every alternate self?” he asked all but frightened. Having to witness the broken reality and hear the story of his parallel self had been excruciating enough; but even the thought of having to bear those memories himself… “Are you saying that from the moment you were born, you’ve been forced to _remember_ every timeline that could have been?”

Once again, Bill scoffed, though with less derision this time. “Memories? Hah! Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the all-seeing eye, Brainiac. Knowledge isn’t something I _have_ – it’s what I _am_. I don’t just remember all those dumb timelines, buddy! No, I lived through them all myself.”

And suddenly, Ford felt like he couldn’t face the creature next to him. He lay back down and gazed into the stars, unable to find anything to say. He’d thought he had seen true madness in the eyes of his other self… He’d thought nothing could be worse, but this…

He’d wanted to understand Bill. Now he did… and didn’t.

“It’s not all bad, though”, he heard the demon say with a half-hearted smirk in his voice. “I bet your little mortal brain finds it hard to believe, but lunacy is power in its purest form! Wouldn’t have gotten this far without it. And I plan to take it from where I left off when this sad little game of yours draws to an end. If anything, my time in captivity has only unhinged my mind even further! World domination is gonna be a cinch after this, hahaha–”

“You cannot go back.”

“–ha…”

To Ford’s surprise, his unintended blurt was met with complete, unbroken silence. No fits of rage. No threatening scowls. No verbal opposition… nothing.

“We both know it”, he continued almost wearily, “so I’ll be the one to say it out loud. You cannot go back. I am sure you remember what my alternate self told us… You are no longer the all-seeing eye. Your resources are gone. You’ve lost your greatest asset, knowledge beyond time. You can go back to the Multiverse, but you’ll never be the powerful being you once were.”

“W… well, that’s a fine idea right there!” Bill suddenly almost shrieked. “Pfft, who cares about omniscience? I’ll just go back and terrorize the rest of the world into submission again! Done and done, easy as pie! _Don_ _’t underestimate me, old man!_ ”

“That will never be enough. You cannot make deals without your omniscience. You saw what had happened in the Nightmare Realm – your reign has been overthrown, and you have no means of reclaiming it. Should you ever go back, you’d be nothing but a fugitive, hiding from those who were once subservient to you.”

Again, Bill said nothing; he simply glared at the stars, his eye unblinking and oddly glazed, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again.

Ford turned onto his side and watched the triangle demon in quiet. Sadness – genuine pity – ached in his chest at the sight of the being whose existence itself was the epitome of madness, and yet… They’d come so far…

He reached his fingers for Bill’s arm in a feeble, awkward attempt of comfort, but stopped when he remembered Bill’s apprehension towards arbitrary touch. “I… I truly am sorry”, he said, his voice weak from the disbelief he felt at his own words. “However… At the end of the day, this might be a g–“

“ _Leave_.”

Words froze in Ford’s mouth. He sat up, but didn’t move. “I wouldn’t want to leave you alone at a time like this”, he said unsurely.

“You heard me, Sixer. Leave.”

Ford sighed. “Very well… if that is what you wish. But I ask you not to start screaming at this hour. Everyone else is already fast asleep, and they deserve to rest.”

Bill clenched his fists so tight they were shaking. “As if I care”, he muttered. “As if I care…”

There was something in his voice, or perhaps the strained look in his eye, that urged Ford to stand up and do as he’d been told. But as he climbed down the ladder, a sound was carried from the rooftop to his ears that froze his heart completely still.

It was a small, choked noise that Ford, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t leave unheard, or mistake for anything else than a quiet sob.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as he got back into his room, he rushed to the old record player and wiped the dust hastily off it, hoping it was still in working condition. The nearest vinyl would have to do; as long as it was something, _anything_ that would drown the sound of Bill sobbing under it and wash it off his memory.

But as the first notes of an old ballad filled the room, Ford felt a heavy thump of nostalgia somewhere deep in his chest. Of course… it would have to be _this_ song. What were the odds? He almost felt like laughing, until he remembered how, mere days before the portal incident, he would listen to it for hours on end while a glass of whiskey after another slowly numbed every sense in his mind and body.

…He should play some other record.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned away and went to his desk.

He flipped through the entries of his newest journal until he could find the disastrous pages from the day he had attempted to record the properties of Bill’s physical form. Almost every line of text was struck out, some so heavily that the tip of his pen had torn through the paper.

He hesitated before reaching for his pen.

 

 

 

 

> _~~Bill Cipher does not have emotions~~ _

…no, that was undeniably false. He cursed, hastily struck the sentence out and started over.

 

 

 

 

> _While Bill has shown to have a variety of emotions that, at a first glance, bear some resemblance to those of humans, the way in which he experiences and is affected by them is proof that the likeness is merely superficial. This leads me to firmly believe that there is no actual correspondence, and_

_“…no actual correlation, no causation, no correspondence, and the only way to see the bare truth is to embrace the insanity that is a world with no such rules_ _…”_

Ford shook his head. Focus.

 

 

 

 

> _however humane Bill_ _’s expressions of emotion may appear to be, one must not let it cloud their judgement and make groundless assumptions ~~that would only lead to~~_

He struck out the last part as needless and nodded to himself, smiling in affirmation. It far easier to internalize seeing it written down and formulated with a feasible choice of words. There was no doubt that Bill didn’t…

_Keep smiling through, just like you always do_

…

The forced smile died off his face. He closed the journal, left his desk and, after a short while of aimless pacing around, sat heavily on his bed and buried his face into his hands as the memory of quiet sobbing filled his entire mind.

 _They_ _’ll be happy to know that as you saw me go, I was singing this song_

“You lied.”

Ford gave a start and raised his gaze. Bill was floating still in the doorway; his eye looked slightly redder than usual, but in a different way than when he was violently enraged. He did, however, look angry.

“What… do you mean?” Ford asked, his voice thick.

“You don’t want to get rid of me, Sixer”, Bill almost growled. “No, you want me to stay. But you lied, because that’s what humans do, right? _They lie_.”

Ford stood up slowly, but didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to, because Bill wasn’t done just yet. “You once told me your lot is special because of their spite. Hah. You know what really makes you special, Six? Lying. You guys build your entire lives upon lies. Want wealth and power? Lie. Friends and admirers? Lie. Personal stability, never mind what happens in the rest of the neighborhood? Easy, just lie, lie, _lie!_ You just can’t stop lying, can you?”

Ford took a step towards him, but still couldn’t find anything to say.

“Well, I’m done.”

“Bill”, the man uttered at last. With a few more steps ahead, he took a hold of the triangle demon’s wrist before he could turn away.

Bill glared at his hand, then him. “Let me go, Sixer.”

“No”, said Ford almost breathlessly. “I will not.”

Bill’s scowl deepened. “Then I’ll just leave.”

“No… you won’t.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because you have nowhere else to go.”

“That’s no reason to stay.”

“Would you leave just for the sake of leaving?”

“No”, Bill spat out. “I’d leave because you want me to stay.”

Ford drew a breath. “In that case, I want you to leave.”

Bill stared. “Then I’ll stay.”

The researcher’s heart seemed to curl up in painful relief at the demon’s words.

When Ford took another step towards him, he floated a few inches back, because he’d never meet him in the middle. When Ford moved to the left, Bill went to the right, because _he_ _’d never stop opposing him_. When Ford tried to head towards the door, Bill dragged him back in. When he tried to approach, he retreated. When he tried to retreat, he approached.

They found themselves moving slowly around the room in surprisingly uniform patterns, all the while the old ballad from their shared past filled the room with a strange, almost anachronistic atmosphere.

Ford felt dazed. He barely remembered where he was, or _when_ he was. Had he glanced towards the door at that moment, he would’ve caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes for a second before they disappeared into the darkness of the corridor. But he only saw Bill. Bill was there…

Bill… shouldn’t be there… He’d witnessed his demise with his own eyes. Bill was gone, he’d kept reminding himself for four long years. _Bill was dead_.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly.

“The exact opposite of what _you_ want”, came the answer.

“What I want…” Ford gulped. “…is for you to stay as far away from me as possible.”

“And why is that?”

Ford’s eyes were foggy; but his words came out clear. “Because I despise you with all my heart.”

“ _Good_.”

And then – in an act of spiteful opposition, and nothing else – a warm, smooth surface pressed against Ford’s chest. The old researcher couldn’t stop the tears he’d been holding back for the entire day from finally spilling out of his eyes as he squeezed them shut and wrapped his arms tightly around Bill’s triangular frame.

His tears dripped down the surface of his glasses and stained the top hat brushing against his cheek. There was no way Bill didn’t feel them. There was no way he didn’t feel the man’s arms trembling as he leaned against the wall and collapsed on the floor, struggling to fight down the sobs that threatened to break out along with the tears streaming down his face.

“Twenty-five years”, the triangle demon’s muffled voice murmured against his chest. “The sound of your mortality thumping away will continue for twenty-five more years… and then nothing. You will die, Stanford Pines.”

Twenty-five years to live. Twenty-five years… with Bill.

His earlier words had been a blatant lie. The kind humans were so prone to fabricating – the kind that Ford, by now, knew Bill loathed beyond anything else.

Whatever he felt for Bill right now, it was not hatred.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When the morning came, Ford found himself in the same spot he’d collapsed in the previous night. Wearied by the past day and the hardships of their interdimensional journey, they’d both fallen asleep without noticing, not moving from the position they were locked in. Bill was already awake; as soon as he noticed Ford had come to as well, he slipped out of his embrace and floated towards the door.

Still half-asleep, Ford raised his head and squinted. His glasses had fallen on the floor during the night, and he couldn’t see anything but the glow Bill emitted in the dark room.

“So you want me to stay, huh?” he could hear the demon say moments before leaving. The triangle turned around, but Ford couldn’t see his face.

“Just wait until you hear what I made your precious little nephew do.”

 


	18. Arc II | Entry No. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content disclaimer: implicit sexual content ahead! Those who dare can find a link to an NSFW extra scene in the end notes.

* * *

 

_Entry No. 18._

_Despite everything... I feel more myself than ever before._

 

* * *

 

 

 

”Hold on… Any second now…”

Ford squinted at the daylight and the Swaven’s silhouette perching on top of the Mystery Shack’s rooftop sign. He didn’t see any predicative signs of movement, but he trusted his nephew’s instincts.

“Three, two… one… Yes! Here it comes! Haha, I knew it!”

Flailing his pen and notebook around with excitement, Dipper hurried after the creature that suddenly rose to its wings and glided smoothly towards the ground. Ford watched with a small, gentle smile as the boy hustled back and forth with a measuring tape, holding up his pen to estimate the house’s height and observing the distances with confident eyes.

“Yep, that confirms it”, he said proudly as he straightened up and tapped the fresh numbers on the notebook with his pen. “The Swaven moves exactly fourteen yards every five minutes and twenty-one seconds. It stops still, scopes its surroundings, and repeats. It follows the pattern to a tee every time.”

“These are excellent findings”, Ford nodded. Dipper’s research technique was certainly different from his – more methodical, more mathematically precise – but he felt no need to correct or guide him. At such a young age, Dipper was already showing an astounding level of independence in a field as regulated as that of science, and he couldn’t have been more proud of his apprentice. “It seems like the weirdness extraction took its anomalous traits away almost completely, save for its peculiar physique.”

“So instead of just flying around aimlessly like most avian hybrid anomalies do…”

“…it now appears to prefer permanence and regularity, and aims to stabilize its location at every given moment.”

“Great uncle Ford, do you know what this means?” Dipper asked enthusiastically. “It’s practically domesticated now! The doctor said Grunkle Stan is going to need every bit of routine we can provide. Well, what would be better routine for him than feeding his favorite giant bird every day?”

“Oh, you may be right”, Ford agreed. “We are indeed responsible of feeding it after awakening its need for biological sustenance in the first place. Stanley will be thrilled to hear this.”

Dipper let out an almost relieved laughter. “Man, I was so worried that we’d have to set it free now that it’s moving around again”, he said and reached to scratch his arm absent-mindedly. “The weird attachment Grunkle Stan grew on it could’ve been disastrous if things have gone differently, but now…  Who knows, it might even be useful in the long –“

“Wait.” Ford knelt down and lifted Dipper’s sleeve to reveal the bandage-covered spot he’d been rubbing. His frown deepened as he remembered the long, wiggling burn mark across the boy’s arm he’d seen at the hospital.

“Oh…” Dipper’s earlier vivacity died instantly from his voice. “I, uh, didn’t notice…”

“You need to be more careful with these”, Ford said, locking eyes with his nephew perhaps a bit too strictly. “They are very easily inflamed. It may not look like much on the surface, but the internal tissue damage will take several weeks to heal. It’s best that we do not take any chances.”

Dipper looked uncomfortable. “I swear I didn’t do it on purpose, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know you didn’t.” Ford’s expression softened a little. “Touching an injured area is merely your body’s way of making sure it’s still intact. I have enough scars to have grown in and out of this pesky mannerism myself. However, you are still far too young to wear your scars with pride… I’d rather you not have any to begin with, so for the time being, let us prevent them from getting worse.” He sighed and stood up.

“Dipper… It is time.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” Dipper averted his eyes and hid his hands in the pockets of his vest. “It’s just that I don’t know where to start”, he said weakly.

Ford gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, if you ask me, you could start by revealing the contents of the box you were trying so hard to hide from me. That box contains something essential to the course of this mystery, does it not?”

“Whew. I’ve been exposed”, Dipper shrugged with an awkward smile. “Yeah, that should be a good place to start. But I think I’ll have to move it to the basement. It, uh, takes some space.”

“That won’t be a problem. Please allow me to help you carry the box this time, though.”

Dipper nodded. “Thanks, Great uncle Ford.”

When they entered the house, they were met with Bill floating around the living room in circles, looking frustrated. His scowl furrowed even deeper as he followed them to the twins’ room, where Dipper knelt down beside his bed and pulled out the box hidden underneath it.

“Really, kid?” the triangle put in, spreading his arms in a show of disbelief. “You’re letting the cat out after everything you’ve done to keep it in the bag? What’s the point?”

“Stay out of this, Bill”, Ford commanded quietly. “This is none of your concern.”

Bill raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

“He’s not wrong”, Dipper admitted.

“You may have spun the web of deceit that led us here, but this discussion is between my grand nephew and me”, Ford said sternly. “I will deal with you in due time.”

Bill crossed his arms. “Ha! You’d better”, he murmured.

Ford frowned. What was that supposed to mean? This was no time to start arguing, but the challenge in Bill’s glare urged him to not leave it at that. “I will”, he repeated. “Rest assured of that. You can wait in my room until Dipper and I are done talking.”

Bill rolled his eye. “And why would I _wait_ for you when I can just go about my usual business in the meantime? You’re not the center of the universe, Stanford!”

“That’s right, I am not”, Ford answered. “And neither are you.”

He had no idea where he was going with this.

“Uh, Great uncle Ford”, Dipper called cautiously, struggling to lift the box with his uninjured arm. “Would you…”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Ford hurried to help him with the box, but didn’t break his eye contact with Bill.  “Wait for me”, he told the demon as they carried the box past him. It sounded like less of a threat than how he’d intended it.

Bill said nothing in response, but he could feel his glare follow their steps until he closed the door to the basement after him.

Ford frowned as he took a closer look at the cracks and torn tape on the box’s upper side. “Dipper, I think this box may have been tampered with.”

“Yep, it sure has. No surprises there”, Dipper muttered as he opened the lids, revealing a sturdy iron safe that had been clearly hammered with something to no avail, except for little scratches here and there. “I walked in on her taping a bunch of crochet hooks together into a makeshift crowbar the day after we got here. I knew she’d try to break in.”

He picked up a small piece of decorative paper and bit his lip as he read through the cheerfully colored writing.

 _‘Mabel was here (just so we_ _’re clear!) (hey, that rhymed!) If you_ _’re reading this, it_ _’s time to turn that frown upside down and get mysterious with your favorite twin sister! Bring me the first keyword you_ _’ll find below and a proper edible offering for the riddle goddess (she accepts cookies), and you will be given the next clue. Oh, what_ _’s the keyword, you ask? It_ _’s Mystery McNerdypants. Love you, bro-bro!_ _’_

“She was deeply worried about you”, Ford said quietly as he placed a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “This must’ve been her attempt to divert your attention from whatever was troubling you. I am sure she never meant to pry on you or violate your privacy.”

“I know that”, Dipper nodded bleakly. “She was just trying to look after her idiot of a brother. I need to make this up for her somehow.”

“Well, I have a feeling she would accept cookies”, Ford smiled. Dipper’s shoulders bounced with laughter. “Now… Let us see the contents of the box.”

Ford stood back and watched as Dipper opened the safe, one complicated security code following another. A device this secure must’ve cost him a fortune… He was sure a boy of Dipper’s age must’ve had other uses for that kind of money. Just how much of a normal high school student’s life had Bill’s treacherous mind games cost him?

At last, the safe was open before Ford’s eyes. He saw nothing but a thick pile of papers and a bundle of red string.

Dipper sighed and stood up with the topmost paper in his hands. “Okay then… This is gonna take a while, so bear with me.” He hesitated. “Uh… Great uncle Ford, are you absolutely sure this room is safe? It’s just that… some of these papers are…”

“You’re being watched”, Ford said darkly, causing Dipper to jump a bit. “That is what Bill has told you, is it not? Do not worry. I was put under the same delusion once, and it taught me to be thorough with my precautions, regardless of whether or not the alleged threat was real. I can assure you this room cannot be monitored, scanned or spied by an outsider through any means. Trust me.”

Dipper nodded. “Yeah… I do.”

Taking a seat in the corner of the room, Ford watched quietly as Dipper started assembling the box’s contents on the opposite wall. Within the first few minutes he slowly began to understand what he was looking at. This was, without a doubt, Bill’s handiwork… A masterful presentation of the one thing no living soul could best the demon at.

Sowing the seeds of distrust.

Once again, Ford was overwhelmed with an urge to apologize for his negligence, for bringing Bill into his family’s life in the first place, but he bit his tongue and gave his nephew the space and silence he needed to concentrate.

Dipper worked swiftly; it left no room for doubt as to how much time, effort and focus he’d spent on this project during the past year. Nevertheless, nearly forty minutes had passed when he finally took a step back and turned to his grand uncle with an unsure look in his eyes.

“So… Are you sure none of this rings any bells?” he asked. “You don’t recognize anything at all?”

Ford shook his head. “I apologize, but I have never seen or heard of any of this before.”

“Don’t worry about it, I just had to make sure one last time.” Dipper sighed. “Well, that leaves me as the sixth person alive known to ever learn about this. Even the internet is clueless… There’s not a single shady website, not a single half-witted theorist out there that could’ve tracked down or even proposed something of this scale. Maybe it makes sense, because it’s not just a theory… It’s all true.”

He turned to face the enormous map of connections covering most of the room’s wall space.

“The mother of all conspiracies.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“There’s no hurry, Dipper”, Ford said gently as he handed the boy a cup of hot coffee – he had a feeling they would both need the reassuring effect of caffeine as the grand mystery surrounding them would start to unravel – and sat down on the opposite side of the table. “You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Dipper stared into his steaming cup for a long while before taking a deep breath and finally raising his gaze to meet his great uncle’s. “Do you know why Bill has access to our minds?” he asked. “Do you know why we have nightmares?”

Ford was taken by surprise; he hadn’t expected Dipper’s story to start with something concerning Bill’s capabilities. He shook his head. “Strangely enough, I have never asked myself that question. I always assumed it had to do with his non-corporeal essence and mode of operation. As for nightmares… Well, the sciences of the mind have their respective theories on it, but I suppose that isn’t what you’re looking for.”

“Great uncle Ford… What if I told you”, Dipper started cautiously and with a hushed voice, as if still afraid someone else would hear his words, “that there is a leak between the mindscape and the Nightmare Realm? That sometimes creatures from the realm slip through the leak into our minds and infest our dreams?”

“That… would make a great deal of sense”, Ford mused with a thoughtful frown. “Are you saying you have proof that such a leak exists?”

Dipper averted his eyes. “Uh, yeah… Sure! I have proof… sort of…” Once again, his hand strayed towards the bandage under his sleeve, but stopped when Ford shook his head briefly.

“What about Bill?” he hurried to ask to shift the boy’s attention from the question he seemed to be so anxious about. “Are you saying that Bill has been using the leak to interact with our minds?”

“Yes, exactly”, Dipper nodded. “You see, most creatures just got lost in the leak by accident and eventually stumbled back thinking it was just another spatial loophole the Nightmare Realm is full of, and it never crossed their minds that they could utilize what they had seen in different people’s minds. But Bill was smart… Well, mostly just a mischievous maniac at first.”

“What happened?” Ford urged him to go on; he’d never thought Dipper could possibly know something about Bill that he didn’t, and he was desperate to learn more.

“When he first discovered humans, he told them all kinds of weird things with no strings attached, just to mess with their heads and spread madness around. But soon he learned there were people who would pay him handsomely for information he could gain with ease simply by snooping around the mindscape. Fears of a political opponent, how to make a girl fall in love with you, hidden treasures, secrets and privileges… That sort of thing.”

“He started meddling with the power games of humans”, Ford thought out loud, “at first for fun, then for personal gain…”

“Yep”, Dipper nodded. “And I think Bill quickly grew addicted to power himself while he was at it. He started making deals with bigger and bigger shots, making them more influential as well as completely dependent on his advice… I think that’s how dealmaking became his line of business in the first place.”

“Dipper… Did Bill _tell_ you all this?” Ford asked, baffled at the thought.

“Well, no”, the boy admitted, his shoulders slumping. “This is all just my deduction based on what I’ve learned from other sources. Bill hasn’t exactly confirmed any of it. But I’m positive that it’s what really happened.”

“I see no reason to doubt you”, assured Ford. “But what are these other sources you mentioned? Could they be –“

“Look around”, Dipper said and gestured at the map covering the walls. “It’s all here in these documents and articles. It’s taken me a lot of intertextual study and reading between the lines, though, so you might not see it at a first glance.”

Ford locked eyes with his apprentice. He could applaud Dipper’s impressive detective work once he’d heard the entire story. “I want you to tell me what started all this.”

“Well… Bill did. Last summer, after, uhh…” Dipper coughed and cleared his throat. “Before we left Gravity Falls, Bill approached me and gave me four clues. ‘Goldberg, Ceylon, 1968, 99-W’. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I couldn’t get his words out of my head, no matter how much I tried to ignore them and shrug them off as nonsense. But eventually the mystery became overwhelming, and I had to look them up. No harm in a simple internet search, right? Yeah… that’s what I thought”, he ended with a bleak laughter.

“I recall you asking me about Sandra Goldberg”, Ford said with a frown. “However… You told me you did not find what you were looking for.”

“All I could scrap together was the same article of a missing student you mentioned coming across. At the time, it didn’t make any sense, so I left it at that and focused on researching, uh, something else for the time being.” The short, uncomfortable silence that followed revealed to Ford that his subject matter had most likely been how to recognize an incubus. “But then… during our holiday visit to Gravity Falls…”

“Bill gave you another clue”, Ford predicted the rest of his sentence, and received a nod for an answer.

“’Fifty-seven stitches.’ That’s where everything started to fall into place.” Dipper stood up and carefully removed an old, frayed newspaper article from the wall. “See, right here. _‘Missing student disappears two days after being found._ _’_ In 1973, Sandra Goldberg went missing for three months, appeared in her dorm room one day in perfect health as though nothing had happened, then went missing again before anyone could get on her case. Now, this article says nothing about it, so it’s no wonder I couldn’t get anywhere at first… But when I dug deeper and made some calls, I found out that her roommate had noticed stitches in her scalp, lots of them. Fifty-seven, to be exact… Of course, her friend didn’t know the exact amount, but I did.”

Ford’s expression was serious; he could see how the young mystery hunter must’ve been fully captivated by the case at this point, but Bill’s shadow over the boy’s journey made him anticipate a sudden turn for the worse. “What did you do with that information?”

“I had to find out what had been done to her… and most importantly, by whom. I didn’t have a lot to go with, so I got all hung up on Bill’s second and third clue. Back in 1968 Sri Lanka was called Ceylon, so I went through everything I could find about the island that year. Political dirty laundry, conspiracies, organized crime, what have you – but I found no connections to whatever could’ve happened to Sandra Goldberg. I was getting desperate and, honestly, sort of obsessed. I was sure this was something huge, and at the same time I felt like I was the only one who could solve this.”

“While I was wading through one of the shadier conspiracy sites I could find, I came across an alien abduction report that was strikingly similar to what happened to Sandra, stitches and all. Then I found another one, and then another… The only differences were in the names and years. It all felt too deliberate, just smoke and mirrors made to look like dead ends, and I had to get to the bottom of it.”

Dipper paused and scratched the back of his neck in a similar manner to Stan when he was uncomfortable. “Uh, this is where I started blurring the line of how far I was willing to go, and what is and isn’t okay, so –“

“I won’t judge you, Dipper”, Ford said instantly. “I am well acquainted with how far into desperation curiosity can drive you. Please, do not hesitate… Tell me everything.”

“Okay.” Dipper took a deep breath. “Great uncle Ford, do you know what hacking is? In short, it’s when someone breaks into protected files and information on the internet”, he explained when Ford shook his head. “They say that the best of the best can track every piece of data that’s ever passed through the web. I wanted to track down whoever was behind the fake abduction reports… and after several weeks of browsing websites I probably shouldn’t have had access to, I finally found what I was looking for.”

He pointed at a printed advertisement of some kind on the wall. “Guy Ceylon. When I saw the pseudonym, I knew he was the man. Normally there’d be no way I could’ve afforded a professional hack-for-hire, but it said in his profile he would also work for information. Sri Lanka had turned out to be a red herring, but it did seem to hint at a connection between the second and third clue, so… I went with my gut. I told Ceylon I had a series of numbers he might find useful. I gave him 1968, and turns out my instinct was right. He took the job.”

“You… made a deal.” Dipper raised his gaze at Ford’s words. “With information you had received from Bill… Dipper, he was acting through you. This was all his elaborate plan to transfer that code to some specific instance… Perhaps that instance was the hacker… Or perhaps Bill was using him as a middleman as well.” He watched the alarmed expression on his nephew’s face, wondering if it was mirroring his own. “I cannot even begin to imagine what this could lead to.”

“I know that now, and I’m really sorry”, Dipper said quietly. “I didn’t realize it at the time, I was too…”

Ford shook his head. “I don’t blame you in the slightest. However, I am slowly beginning to understand how cornered you must have felt after this incident. There is nothing more frightening than not being able to fathom the consequences of your actions.”

“Oh man…” Dipper gave him a weak smile. “And I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet.”

“In that case, please, continue your story.”

“Ceylon got me all the information I needed. As soon as he was done sending me the files, he told me that some shady third party had gotten on his tail during the job, and he would need to go underground for the time being. He suggested I do the same – he’d already scrambled my online footprint for me, and gave me a quick 101 on how to keep it that way. He was a surprisingly nice guy for a cybercriminal.”

“You’re using a lot of words I have never heard before”, Ford pointed out, “but I think I got the main idea. Go on. Who was behind the fake abductions?”

“A man named John Smith”, said Dipper and turned to point at a piece of paper in the center of the map. “I know, it’s ridiculous. That’s his actual birthname. I guess it’s convenient, too, because he has a bajillion namesakes all over America, and some of them were paid doubles, even… But this one, as it finally turned out after months of dead ends and dot-connecting, happens to operate in Oakland, California. What a coincidence, right?”

“It certainly is. So all this time, he was right in your vicinity”, Ford reflected with a frown. “And it sounds like he was aware of someone trying to track him down… Does that not put you in danger?”

“Not yet”, Dipper answered cautiously. “I did a pretty good job covering my tracks. I stopped talking to my classmates, teachers, parents, even Mabel… I didn’t want to get anyone else involved. I shut myself in, effectively. I thought my mission more than justified it. I know it was stupid now, but…”

“I know well what you mean, Dipper. Too well.”

“I found out that Smith owns an old bunker just outside Oakland, hidden under a top secret governmental facility. On the night before our graduation ceremony, Mabel’s fussing was keeping everyone busy, so I pretended to hit the hay early, snuck out of the window and took a late night bus to Oakland’s outskirts. I broke in using the President’s Key, and…” Dipper hesitated, avoiding Ford’s eyes. “…used your magnet gun to eliminate the security cameras.”

“You took my magnet gun?” Ford asked with his eyebrows raised. “Well, no wonder I couldn’t find it while packing for our interdimensional quest. Think nothing of it”, he held up his hand to stop the apology he could see coming. “More importantly, you… broke into a top secret facility.”

“Yeah”, Dipper nodded weakly.

“In any other circumstances the idea of such a daring adventure would get my blood pumping with shared excitement, but this time…” Ford stared into his untouched cup of coffee. “You were all alone.”

“Loneliest I’ve ever felt in my life”, Dipper confirmed with a disheartened smile. “Anyway, maybe it was worth it, because I finally found all the answers I was looking for. Top secret documents. Evidence. Proof of what I’d been suspecting ever since this whole thing started.”

“Let us hear it”, said Ford intently.

Dipper drew breath. “Throughout our history, Bill has been making deals left and right and all over the map, adding his own twist to the development of humanity. That much we both knew. What we didn’t know is that at some point, some people – who later organized into a secret society – started thinking, maybe Bill was just a needless middleman. If they could get access to the mindscape by themselves, they’d be unstoppable, right? No deals, no pesky agreements and paybacks, nothing but full control over other people’s minds. So they started investigating.”

He gulped down his cold coffee in one go, stood up and started pacing around the room, pointing at different parts of his conspiracy map as he talked. “Sandra Goldberg was a normal, stressed out university student who made a small-time deal with a dream demon to get through her finals, then got cold feet and confessed to her professor, who happened to be a member of the secret society I mentioned. Sandra was captured, and they operated on her brain to figure out how Bill had gained access to her mind. After they were done, she was most likely brainwashed. She managed to escape for a couple of days before they could relocate her – hence her brief reappearance in her dorm room.”

“Whatever they did to her brain gave them evidence that a person’s dreams could be entered from a separate realm. From that moment on, hiding any hints of Bill’s existence from the public became their first priority. Mysterious incidents were scattered all over the place, so they used a commoner’s curiosity to cover them. They started fabricating conspiracy theories that at the same time seemed too far-fetched to be true, and yet could successfully lead people astray from the truth.” He pointed feverishly from one conflux of red string to another. “The moon landing, the Illuminati, the Elders of Zion, FEMA… It’s all part of the expanding web of lies whose only purpose is to hide the real deal – the secret investigation of Bill Cipher and the Nightmare Realm!”

Ford was thunderstruck. Was this the weight Dipper had had to carry all by himself? “Dipper, you have indeed discovered something tremendous”, he eventually said, “something that is as frightening as it is fascinating. However, as I said, this is all completely new to me, and I need to know… How is this related to the portal, and my alleged involvement that you were so convinced of when you left us?”

“Yeah… I was just getting there.” Dipper sat back down and fiddled with his empty cup, looking hesitant. “There was a small safety vault in the corner of the bunker. The security code was W-99 – Bill’s fourth clue. Inside I found blueprints for a portal, one that was slightly different from yours… and a bill of purchase for a significant amount of plutonium, of which Smith owns the only large stock in the world. The name of the buyer…” he gave his great uncle a miserable glance, “…was Stanford Pines.”

“That must’ve been my brother acting under my name”, Ford said silently, “as I am sure Bill, while possessing my body, did not make an honest purchase when he acquired the plutonium needed for the portal. Although I do wonder how that fits into Stanley’s mode of operation, either”, he then pointed out. “Perhaps I should ask him… if he still remembers. All things considered, Dipper, I cannot see this as anything but a terrible misunderstanding.”

“I get that now”, Dipper muttered. “Something in my mind snapped, and I felt like there really was no one I could trust… except for Bill. Great uncle Ford, I’m so –“

“We’ve already been through this. There is no need for more apologies”, Ford retorted gently.

The boy sighed. “My next step was to figure out the new set of blueprints I’d found. Bill helped me by giving me the last clue, ‘the juggling fox’. It was the logo of a certain research institute in India. At that point I was already back in Gravity Falls, so I couldn’t do my investigation as effectively as I wanted… Anyway, what I found out was…”

He turned to point at the map’s farthest corner. “There’s another interdimensional portal out there. My research is still unfinished, but I think that during the time between the appearance of your parallel self and our leave into the Multiverse, someone activated that portal and made it to the Nightmare Realm, possibly for the first time. That’s why the interdimensional compass took us there instead of the other Ford’s home dimension.”

Ford leaned forward. “And your plan, when you left us, was to…”

“Find the leak to the mindscape”, Dipper said wearily, “and use Bill’s powers to either close it, hide it, or… I don’t know. I knew I had to do something.”

Ford reached to place a hand on his great nephew’s. “What you did, however misguided”, he said, “was astoundingly brave. No one should have to bear the burden of such great destinies, especially at such a young age, and you still attempted to do the right thing. If anything, I am proud… and deeply sorry you had to go through this.”

Dipper shook his head. “The thing is, I still don’t know if I was right or totally wrong about everything”, he said with downcast eyes. “After we left the cave, Bill refused to cooperate with me. He even questioned whether or not the leak exists in the first place.”

“Did he state that it ‘does not exist’, word to word?”

“Well… no. He wished me good luck with finding it, ‘if it even exists’. That’s what he said.”

“In that case, pay no mind to his word games”, Ford said sternly. “I’ve no doubt he was only trying to confuse you further.”

“Yeah… It was still a pretty weird thing to say, right? And even if he was bluffing, that just means the leak is still there, and the portal, _and_ the secret society and its terrifying plans for mass mind control. After all this, I couldn’t even fix anything.”

“Their plans will not turn into reality”, Ford promised. “We will fix this, Dipper. Together.”

Dipper managed a smile and opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a voice coming from upstairs.

“Dipper? Mr. Ford? Just got a call from the hospital, apparently Mr. Pines is all good now and ready to be taken back home as well. We’re hitting the road right away, you dogs coming with?”

“I’ll be right there, Soos!” Dipper shouted for a reply. He glanced at Ford. “What about you?”

“It’s probably best that I stay here in the Shack”, said Ford. “I cannot leave Bill alone in the house.”

A short silence fell between them.

“Great uncle Ford”, Dipper started after a while, avoiding the man’s gaze, “I know that I haven’t always agreed with the idea of, uh, punishing Bill whenever he’s stepped out of line in the past. But this time – don’t get me wrong, it’s not just what he’s done to me, I don’t need revenge or anything… But the truth is, I’m really worried about Trevor. What if he does something similar to him, only in a more elaborate, long-term scale? Do we really want to take that chance?”

“What he did to you is unforgivable”, Ford said sternly, “and we must never let that happen again. That much is a given. And I guarantee that I will face Bill with the severity this situation calls for. He will be held liable for his treachery. Trust me with this, Dipper.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The door made a loud noise when it was slammed shut behind his back. Perhaps a little too loud, Ford thought as he saw Bill flinch at the sound. It made him oddly self-aware, like he’d done something wrong.

At least Bill didn't appear intimidated by the heavy atmosphere he'd entered the room with, because he was now swiftly approaching him; but his tense body language, fast to withdraw at any sudden movement Ford would take, gave away his alertness.

He was afraid.

"Well?" he shrieked, circling the man an arm's length away. _"Well? WELL?"_

Ford looked away. “What exactly are you expecting me to say?” he asked, his tone dark and weary. “You know what you have done."

Bill scoffed. "Sure I do! I know _everything!_ Oh, wait – scratch that, guess that’s off the table, thanks to _you!_ ” He pointed his finger at Ford in a way that was nothing short of melodramatic. “Goes on to say that you in your great mortal wisdom know everything better than me these days, huh? Isn’t that right, Stanford? Surely your word can only be _the indisputable truth!_ Well, LET'S HAVE IT!”

Ford let out a heavy sigh. “Bill, this is pointless”, he muttered. “Regardless of what I say, your view of what you did will always differ from mine. From your viewpoint, you simply did what you had to do to.”

 _I would_ _’ve done the same._ The thought had kept wandering into his mind ever since he’d left the basement with Dipper, and now that he was alone with Bill, he could no longer deny it. It was only natural… Had he been kept in captivity, who was to say he wouldn’t be as ruthless and determined, leaving no stone unturned in his attempts to regain his freedom? Why would he ever empathize with his oppressors?

It wasn’t even a question of a mere ‘what if’ scenario… In the past, did he ever stop to think of the consequences of his actions in the vastness of the Multiverse? Who knew how much collateral damage his quest to destroy Bill had caused in the countless dimensions he’d visited? _He_ knew… He’d witnessed the annihilation of one with his own eyes, brought about by his own hand.

He was just as guilty as Bill. If anyone was to be punished… He would deserve the same punishment.

“WHO CARES ABOUT MY POINT OF VIEW!” Bill continued yelling over his silence. “I made you look like a fool! Or better yet, IRRESPONSIBLE! That’s the one thing you can’t tolerate, isn’t it, you self-centered control freak? You were supposed to keep me in the leash, AND YOU FAILED! So what’s the verdict? _How many limbs will you break this time?_ Come on, let’s get this show on the road!”

“This isn’t about me”, Ford said quietly, his gaze still averted from the demon. He tried – he really tried – to gain the same strength he’d once spoken with to condemn Bill, but to no avail. All he felt was a strange kind of sadness, hollow guilt… and pity. “This is about you. Your actions cannot be pardoned, yet no punishment will change who you are. I cannot redeem you on your own behalf.”

“What a load of _BULLSHIT!_ ” He startled a bit at the sound of Bill slamming his hand hard against the wall. “Don’t you even start your little moral superiority show with me here, Pines! WE BOTH KNOW HOW THIS ROLLS! The only valid reason to make a mess of your local triangle demon is YOUR OWN SICK WISH TO DO SO! AND HERE YOU HAVE THE POWER, THE CHANCE _AND_ THE PERFECT EXCUSE, ALL OFFERED ON A GOLD PLATE! SO GO ON, OLD FRIEND, NO HARD FEELINGS! _DO IT!_ ”

“I will not hurt you, Bill”, Ford said calmly; by now, this much was clear to him. But that only seemed to fuel Bill’s anger in turn.

Their confrontation was unfolding very differently from what he'd imagined.

“ _Oh yeah?_ ” the demon raged on, spreading his arms as though offering himself as a target for whatever he was trying to provoke Ford into doing. “What gives, huh? Because you promised the kid you wouldn’t? _You_ _’re human!_ Promises of your kind are _made to be broken!_ I won’t tell, cross my eye! Come on, you know you want to! COME ON! DO YOUR WORST, SIXER!”

“I will not –“

“ _URRRGH!_ FINE, GEEZ!” Bill grabbed his hat and flung it on the floor in a show of overboiling frustration. For the first time since he’d entered the room, Ford’s eyes focused on the triangle demon, whose frame – he now noticed – was visibly shaking and emitted a bright, white glow. “Don’t wanna get physical? FINE! H-hah, there’s plenty of other options to choose from! Let’s see, how about locking me up in that dusty old bunker for a week or two? Or maybe it’s time to heed the advice of your batty self from the other side and give good old _psychological torment_ a try! I’m sure you can think of a dozen different ways to go around _that!_ _”_

“Bill –“

“COME ON, JUST DO _SOMETHING!_ ”

“I don’t understand!” Ford finally raised his own voice to match Bill’s. “Why do you insist on being punished? There is nothing to gain from it for either of us!” And at the same time he realized that they were now moving around the room, circling each other like two predators in a cage – no, that couldn’t be right. Bill was the only one in chains. Or was he? Who was the predator… and who was the prey? Or were they both…

“Hah!” Bill scoffed again. The jeer in his eye was slowly giving way for visible exhaustion. “One would think you’d gotten used to not understanding in your sixty-seven years of being trapped in that stupid meatsack! Stop trying to act smarter than you really are and for once – for this one damn time – just _– work with me here!_ ”

An inkling of anger flared up in Ford’s chest at Bill’s last words. “That’s enough.” He took a step towards the demon. “This is about you getting what you want again, isn’t it?” he asked sharply.

“Um, YEAH!” Bill screamed. “Didn’t you get the memo about the purpose of persuasion?”

“ _Persuasion?_ ” Ford took another step, not stopping until Bill was backed against the wall. “Is that what this is to you? Yet another mind game?”

“Right on the money”, Bill hissed back. He was still trembling.

“If you think you’ll get away with your deeds”, Ford said in a low tone, “by bluffing me into thinking you _wish_ to be punished, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Then _do it_ , you wimp.”

Ford shook his head with a hint of a smile on his lips. “No.”

Bill let out a choked noise that was an odd mixture of derision and desperation. “Then I guess that basic reverse psychology did the job after all, huh?” he muttered between his heavy breaths. “Such a nice little puppet you are, Sixer. Boy… I really trained you to a tee, didn’t I?”

Ford shifted closer, closing one more of the few remaining inches of space between them.

“ _I am not a puppet_.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Bill’s eye was gleaming. “Look.”

His hands reached to take a hold of Ford’s, guiding it to meet his surface. From all the times this had happened in the past, Ford had known to expect something like this ever since he’d noticed the first signs. Perhaps he _was_ a puppet, because he did nothing to stop it. He did… nothing.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the unbearably hot shudder that traveled from Bill’s body through his as his fingertips met the demon’s base and slid softly, effortlessly to a depth between his bricks.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After approximately thirty minutes of staring at the ceiling and listening to the unusually deep breaths next to him, the panic in Ford's chest finally began to subside.

After another ten minutes had passed, he was willing to admit to himself that he felt surprisingly good… well, giving the circumstances.

In five more minutes, he was starting to feel _phenomenally_ good.

The crushing mortification he'd been waiting to hit ever since he surrendered never came. Well, not yet, anyway. Perhaps when the others returned… He felt a hearty laughter bubbling in his chest at the thought. If anything, the thought of having to face his family after this seemed utterly absurd.

He turned his head to the side to gaze at Bill, who was lying close enough for him to see his every feature even without his glasses. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

It took Bill a good ten seconds to reply, and his answer came out as a drowsy mutter. “Gross. Violated.”

“Oh.” Ford half expected yet another apology to form on the tip of his tongue, but instead, the corner of his mouth twisted up slightly with a smile he could barely hold back. The fact that Bill was willing to use such self-degrading words to describe his state of mind only meant… Well, it meant what it meant. One side of the coin.

He turned onto his side to watch his companion with a vacant smile on his lips, and found Bill gazing back at him. It must've been the first time they'd simply looked at one another. There was no scorn, no hostility, no challenge, no wordless exchanges… only contact, and a sense of mutual acknowledgement.

“First time, huh?”

“Ah… yes.” Ford felt his face heat up a little. “You know my interests and dedications have been elsewhere ever since I was very young. I followed the social rites as was expected of me, but truthfully, I… never so much as considered anything beyond that.”

He was fully prepared for at least a mockingly raised brow after his moment of honesty, but there was no response other than a peaceful, half-lidded stare.

“Although”, he then added slowly, “I am not sure if… the earlier even counts as…”

“Oh, it does”, Bill muttered. “You better believe it does.”

“But”, Ford tried, fighting back that same smile very persistently creeping on his face again, “we aren’t even the same species. It lacks biological consistency… Your corporeality is missing certain, well, functions that would make it –“

“It is what it is, okay? Sheesh.” Bill closed his eye. “Stop telling me how to exist, smartass.”

“That is not what I… Oh, well.” Ford shut his mouth and settled for watching the barely noticeable signs of annoyance gradually fade from Bill’s brow as he lay still with his eye closed, his breaths still deeper and slower than normal. He looked more at peace than Ford had ever seen him before.

His eyes traveled from Bill’s face to the small hand resting an inch away from his chest. His own fingertips reached to run across the pitch-black palm with a light, tentative touch; Bill opened his eye slightly, following the six fingers as they slowly intertwined with his. It was a soft imitation of the tight, desperate grip they were latched onto one another with earlier.

“Keep that sentimentality at bay, Sixer”, Bill commented without the usual edge in his tone. “My balance was gone. I needed physical support. That’s all.”

“I know”, Ford said quietly. Regardless, he couldn’t turn his eyes from the asymmetrical sight of Bill’s hand in his, two of his fingers resting idly aside from the ones joined together.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” he muttered. “We’re incompatible by nature. We are both anomalies by and of ourselves, and yet… I have one extra digit, whereas you’re lacking one. It’s almost as if we –“

“Sorry, pal, that’s where you’re off”, Bill interrupted placidly. “Your entire species is off is what I’m saying. You think five fingers is the golden standard? Would go on to say I’d sport five as well, am I right?”

“That’s… Then, why…”

“Simple, my friend. Any extra digits over four is nothing but an evolutionary hiccup. Four fingers on each hand, and you’ve got everything you need for any and all handsy functions you can think of. My visual game is the literal embodiment of practical yet dapper minimalism, so I should know!”

Ford smiled. “Minimalism, is it? It does make sense. I wonder…”

By now, he knew there was more to Bill’s physical appearance than mere practicality and aesthetics. Until this day, he used to think of Bill as flawless – a visual, mathematical epitome of perfection. Now he knew that Bill's sides weren't exactly symmetrical, that his right thumb was half a millimeter longer than the left one, and that the brick on his back Ford's mishandling on the day after the resurrection had left protruding had been ever so slightly dislocated since. Like any other individual being, Bill had his imperfections that weren’t simply a manifestation of his essence or aesthetic preferences.

Ford had no idea how he knew all this… He just did.

They both fell quiet after this short exchange; Bill turned his half-lidded gaze towards the ceiling, leaving Ford to rest his eyes on the small black hand his fingertips were absently studying. Despite the occasional side glances shifting between amusement and slight annoyance, Bill never attempted to pull his hand away from his.

“My hat”, Bill muttered eventually. “I need it.”

“Oh… certainly.” As reluctant as Ford was to move from Bill’s side, he sat up and reached for his glasses. “I assume it’s still somewhere on the floor. I will get it for you right away.”

“If you stepped on it again somewhere along the line, I swear I’m going to replace each of your twelve toes with yodeling gerbils.”

Ford snorted with laughter as he knelt down to pick up Bill’s top hat and brushed it clean. “I prefer my toes as they are, thank you.”

He sat down on the bed next to Bill and placed the hat over his top angle, expecting it to settle in its usual place by whatever contramagnetic force that held it afloat. Instead, it flopped over and tumbled down the pillow.

Bill rolled his eye. “Peachy.”

“How strange”, Ford commented in turn, examining the hat in his hand. “This must be connected to the fact that you’re unable to float at the moment…” He frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Meh.” Bill swished his hand, unconcerned. “Passing thing. I’ve been trapped in this form for over a year, I know how it works by now.”

“Nonetheless, this has never happened before.”

“I’m _fine_ , stop fussing”, Bill retorted in a rather exhausted tone. “Just give me a few.”

Ford smiled. “All right, then.”

He couldn’t make the hat float, but at least he could fix Bill’s bowtie still hanging loose from the inexplicable knot that kept it attached on his surface.

Bill watched with an expression of mild curiosity as he tied the bow carefully like his father had taught him in his childhood; the result was a shape that was slightly different from Bill’s usual style. The demon’s front still felt warmer than normal beneath his fingertips.

“Why do you breathe”, he muttered, as if to himself, “when you have no heart?”

“What’s that, Six?”

“Oh… Nothing.”

Perhaps it was merely a reminder, he thought. A reminder of life. _Bill was alive._

But a reminder to whom? To himself… or to Ford?

“I’ll be right back”, he told Bill quietly. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Sure.”

He got up from the bed and headed downstairs.

Aside from Bill and himself, the house was empty… or so he’d thought.

He stepped into the living room, but froze in place at the sight of Abuelita sleeping in her chair. _Oh, shoot._ How on Earth could an elderly woman appear so inconspicuous despite being constantly present? Well, at least she was sound asleep. Perhaps she hadn’t heard… anything… that had happened upstairs. His stomach twisted with shame at the thought.

With quiet steps, he passed Abuelita’s chair and walked to the bookshelf. There he reached for a large book he’d hidden behind the row of unused dictionaries on the topmost shelf. _Accounting for the Highly Intelligent,_ it said on the cover; proper accounting was the one thing he knew no one in this house cared in the least about. He’d almost picked _Accounting for Dummies_ at the book store, but he didn’t want to take any chances in case Soos ever decided the founder’s teachings weren’t quite as infallible as he’d thought after all.

Opening the book revealed a hollow space that appeared empty at a first glance, but Ford knew better. There, wrapped into a piece of cloth he’d torn from his old cloak of occasional invisibility, lay his hidden journal no one was to ever find out about.

His utter failure in hiding his first three journals before his disappearance from Gravity Falls had taught him that the best place to conceal a secret might as well be in plain sight… Although he wasn’t ready to take that advice to the letter just yet. Not with this particular secret he was now holding in his hands.

He put the empty covers of a book in their earlier place, but before he could tiptoe out of the living room, he nearly dropped the journal at the realization that Abuelita’s eyes were now wide open and studying him keenly.

“Oh! Uh…” He slid the book behind his back and flashed an uncharacteristically wide grin. “Greetings, Abuelita.”

“Good day, Mr. Scientist”, the elder of the house said with a slow nod.

“I, uh, I apologize for sneaking around and disturbing your sleep.” Ford cleared his throat warily. “You… You have been sleeping for a longer while now… have you not?”

To his horror, Abuelita didn’t answer; she simply watched him with her usual placid smile.

“I…” Ford’s palms were starting to sweat profusely, so he saw it best to leave before his actions would appear downright suspicious. “I must go, I have… work to do. If you’ll excuse me…” As he left the room with haste, he could feel Abuelita’s eyes on him, judging his every step. He did not know what he was being judged for, but they were certainly… _judging_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He let out a deep sigh as he seated himself next to the mosaic window near the kids’ room. This had been his favorite place to write and contemplate in the days he was still unaware of Bill’s treachery. The knowledge of being watched had felt like a comforting presence at the time; now, it was just as reassuring to know Bill wouldn’t be able to spy on him and, most importantly, the words he was about to write down in the secret journal that lay open on his knees.

He took a deep breath and readied his pen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I have received confirmation that Bill's corporeal form possesses the capability for ~~se~~_

He stopped and chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully for a few seconds, then struck out the unfinished word and continued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _physical intercourse. Notwithstanding the implications that could be transferred from the earlier entry written in this journal, I am not entirely convinced that the act is, to him, primarily of sexual nature. Even if we leave aside the missing biological dichotomies – the relevant features of Bill's form appear to be shifting as per his immediate urges and needs, and are in no way clearly distinguishable as sexual or reproductive organs_

He held another pause. This couldn’t be farther away from his personal expertise, but from what he had gathered, human sexuality didn’t seem to be entirely dominated by biology, either. Not if his own actions a mere hour ago were anything to go by… He shook his head. He was not allowed to include himself as a factor in his observations. A researcher must always remain outside his subject field.

There had to be a way around it, a way to explain it through some other means than how he had experienced it… How he had felt Bill, felt _through_ him.

He wrote on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I have learned from Bill himself that his original essence is that of pure knowledge. During my examination of his physical form last year, I only glimpsed at what lies beneath his golden surface. In the light of these new discoveries, I am inclined to believe that his internal structures consist of some metaphysical substance, perhaps manifesting his original form of being. I believe_

Ford frowned. This was getting more and more abstract, more difficult to put into words; suddenly he could deeply understand Bill’s fondness of nonsensical idioms and turns of phrases.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _knowledge, by nature, is an obstinate, intrusive, ever expanding form of energy. It seeks to bind everything to itself, to control and invade. If my hypothesis is right, this could be the source of Bill_ _’s destructive tendencies. However, with him slowly losing his grasp on his all-knowing origins, perhaps his essence is gradually changing as well. Now, the substance inside Bill_ _’s physical form ~~feels~~ appears to move in centripetal rather than centrifugal patterns, and it seems to be an accumulative and pulling force contrary to its earlier, disintegrating and pushing nature. Of course, I am unable to determine whether this is an ongoing change, as at the time of these observations, there were minor changes in Bill_ _’s physical constitution in accordance to his urges. That being said, ~~I remain convinced that~~_

And there it was again. He _had_ to get around this somehow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _there definitely appeared to be more to it than a simple need for sexual satisfaction_

More of… what, exactly? There had definitely been something more – he was sure of it, he had _felt_ it – but how could he know, if he wasn’t allowed to _be_ the one to know? How could he ever describe or argue this feasibly if he had to exclude his own participation in the course of events?

Ford shook his head slowly and slid a hand down his face. Again, that inexplicable churn of laughter was fighting its way out of his lungs. This was getting ridiculous… None of this made sense. It would never make sense – but perhaps it didn’t have to.

No one was going to see this, so where was the harm?

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I suppose I can no longer deny my own role not as a simple observer, but as one who experienced this strange transpiration together with Bill. As his sexual partner,_

A slight blush spread on Ford’s face at the words. Yes, it had definitely been sexual on his part… that much he wouldn’t question.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I crossed a border between him and myself. I can only describe it as a form of shared corporeality, as though for those fleeting moments, some temporal shard of his consciousness had merged with mine. The experience was beyond anything I can put into words, and to my astonishment, I now find myself with knowledge, an almost intuitive comprehension on certain sides to our world that I did not and, quite possibly, could not possess before. And even so_ _– or perhaps, because of that_ _…_

With no rhyme or reason, a small, peaceful smile spread on his face as he sighed and concluded the entry with a sentence that, under any other circumstances, would’ve been enough to crush his professional integrity to the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _I don_ _’t understand anything._

It was time he chose the truth over a fear of failure.

To his relief, Abuelita had drifted off back to sleep when he stepped quietly into the living room to return the journal to its hiding place. After making sure the shell of an accounting guidebook was properly covered by the dictionaries, he cautiously put a light blanket on the grandmother of the house and headed upstairs.

Bill’s eye was closed when he entered the room. Ford watched him in silence; but before he moved from the doorway, he could hear the front door open and a variety of different voices flood the house.

The rest of the family was back.

“Grunkle Ford, we’re home!” Mabel’s cheerful voice and racing steps echoed in the staircase. “And guess who’s with us! Grunkle Stan is giving everyone homecoming noogies and he insists that you –”

“I wouldn’t miss it”, Ford said, keeping his voice down as he turned to face the girl. “But I need one more moment before I can join you.”

“Great uncle Ford!” Dipper exclaimed as he followed in Mabel’s wake. “Is everything okay? Did Bill –“

“ _Shh_ , Dipper”, Mabel hushed him instantly. “Can’t you see? He’s sleeping.”

Ford turned on his heels and realized Mabel was right.

“Aww”, Mabel whispered, face melting into an adoring expression. “I’ve never seen him sleep before. He looks so peaceful. I wonder what his dreams are like…”

“I am not sure if he even has those”, Ford said quietly. Did Bill dream? It had never even crossed his mind.

“Great uncle Ford”, Dipper muttered as if about to ask something, but Ford shook his head.

“Everything is alright, Dipper. You two go ahead… I have one last thing to do. I will be down shortly.”

After the twins had hurried down the stairs, he turned to briefly gaze at Bill’s peacefully sleeping figure. Then he went to his desk, grabbed his newest journal – the presentable kind – and sat down to hastily write down his latest revisal to the entry concerning Bill Cipher.

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _Bill has changed. Despite that being the case, I am no longer willing to dismiss my earlier observations as invalid. Every revelation has been one of its own time, and everything I ~~feel fo~~ discover of him today may be subject to further changes in the unforeseen future._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Psst, Grunkle Ford”, Mabel whispered to him, nudging at his arm gently as they were hanging party decorations in the living room in celebration of Stan’s return. “What’s your secret?”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Mabel, I don’t follow.”

“You’re smiling like the sun!” the girl sighed almost admiringly. “Your eyes remind me of that one time I peeked into Dipper’s telescope at night. They’re like wells full of stardust!”

“Please”, Ford laughed. “There are only so many celestial bodies a human face can contain.” He glanced at his brother, who was sitting at the kitchen table and scooping ice cream into his mouth straight from the carton, wearing his usual grumpy face as though he’d never been away. “Aren’t we all glad to have Stanley returned from the hospital?”

Mabel scratched her chin and gave Ford a quizzical look. “Hmm… No, my Mabel senses tell me there’s gotta be more to it. You know what I think? I think something happened between you and Bill while we were gone.”

Ford cleared his throat, barely managing a straight face. “Well…”

Mabel let out a small squeal. “I knew it! You guys finally made up! Did he say something nice?” she asked, her eyebrows wiggling with a speed only Mabel Pines could manage.

“Uh, no, not exactly.” Ford let out a somewhat embarrassed laughter. “In fact, he… called me an idiot.”

“Oh! But in a loving banter-y kind of way, right?”

"No, Mabel, I am fairly sure he meant it in a 'sincerely questioning my common sense and reason' kind of way”, he explained with an almost apologetic smile.

Mabel’s eyebrows relaxed at last. “I’m confused”, she said, tilting her head. “Why would he say that now that you’re finally friends again? I mean, he’s always been Rudeface McGee, but why are _you_ smiling about it?”

“I am not quite sure if we’re… But that is irrelevant. I suppose – well, Bill may be right, in a way.” He shrugged and looked out of the window with an absent smile. “It feels good to receive full recognition to my deepest faults as well as my virtues. I'd much rather be an honest idiot than a pretentious hypocrite of an intellectual… even in his eye.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bill was already awake when Ford returned his room after the celebrations. He was sitting up, leaning against Ford’s pillow, and his hat was afloat in its usual spot; it looked like his physical form was slowly recovering from whatever had caused the temporary failure in its system.

“Did you sleep well?” Ford asked as he closed the door behind him.

Bill shrugged. “Eh. Could’ve been worse.”

Ford sat down on the edge of his bed. “I brought you a cup of tea… although I am still unsure of whether the way I prepare it is to your liking, seeing how you didn't even touch it last time.” He cleared his throat, covering an awkward laughter as he remembered the reason Bill’s tea had been left untouched.

Bill said nothing, but accepted the cup the man handed over to him, studying the tea in a manner that wasn’t nearly as mockingly critical as Ford had expected.

Ford watched the triangle demon with a smile as he took the first sip and, at the very least, didn’t grimace.

“Bill…” he started. “There is one thing I don’t quite understand.”

Bill glanced at him. “Just one? Well, Brainiac, look at _you_ go. Long live the all-knowing, am I right?”

“No, that isn’t what I meant”, Ford laughed. “It is something that has been bothering me ever since we returned to this dimension. In that cave, after nearly a year of preparation and trickery, you finally succeeded in driving the final wedge between Dipper and me, and managed to separate him from the rest of us…  From that moment on, what were you planning to do?”

“Isn’t that obvious? To break free, of course.”

“Yes, but… how?” Ford pressed on. “According to Dipper’s description of the events after his misstep, the situation between you and him quickly swerved out of control. He was armed and emotionally unstable, and you were still in chains. Furthermore, it sounded as though you were simply provoking him instead of continuing to pull his strings, or creating a distraction for your escape. That is what I would’ve done, had I been in your place.”

Bill took another sip of his tea. “What’s your point?”

“There was nothing in your undertakings following our group’s separation that would’ve guaranteed or even furthered your getaway… And I cannot help but wonder how many of your actions were deliberate.”

“Hah!” Bill scoffed, almost spilling tea from his cup on the bedcover in the process. “You’re asking me if my escape plan was deliberate? Talk about missing the irony!”

Ford blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t!” Bill said cheerfully. “You’re a dumb meatsack, and a control freak to boot. You think you can just plan everything out and it’ll all turn out just the way you wanted, don’t you? Terribly sorry to burst your bubble, but us all-seeing folk know a little better than that!”

“But… surely you would want to assert control over your surroundings as well”, Ford tried. “Don’t you think it’s nearly insufferable to simply stand back and watch your fate unfold without the power to change it?”

Bill snorted. “’ _Fate_ ’, you say? Well, that’s a whole ‘nother brainchild of your kind’s ignorance right there! But that’s beside the point! What’s insufferable here is the idea of having to stick to a plan no matter what and missing all the fun variables in the process! Spoiler alert – it’s never going to work! Leave it to good old chaos to kiss your plans goodbye! Embrace the madness, stop planning ahead and go with the flow! That’s freedom, buddy, not all that difficult to get your head around! I mean, really, what could be less liberating than _deliberation_?”

“I… I have never even thought…” Ford stared ahead, awestruck by the demon’s philosophy. It shouldn’t have made that much sense – it made _no_ sense, and yet…

“Bill”, he said after a while, “you were trying to leave the house a few days ago, were you not? I assumed you simply wanted to get away, but if… if there ever was somewhere you wanted to go, if you ever had a specific destination in mind…” He held a short pause. “If it is within the limits of something I can arrange, I’d gladly take you there.”

Bill shot an odd, almost incredulous glance at him, then took another sip from his cup as though in thoughtful silence. “Well, one thing I know for sure is you need to learn how to make proper tea”, he then pointed out with the slightest amount of sneer in his tone. “So here’s an idea. How about you and I take a little field trip to the Tea Dimension one of these days?”

Ford turned to him, his heart skipping a beat at the words. Then he smiled.

“I’ll be happy to accompany you”, he said.

It was true. He could hardly wait to let Bill guide him into worlds unknown, and share his enjoyments and insights with him on everything they would see and encounter on their way. Excitement raced through his veins at the thought, and he felt energetic and endlessly curious, like he was a young boy again. His eyes were damp as he smiled at the sight of Bill vacantly sipping his tea. Mabel had been right… he simply couldn’t stop smiling. He hadn’t felt like this since the day Bill’s betrayal came into light, and his life had turned into a blazing hell – but now… for the first time in decades, he was truly –

“Great uncle Ford!”

His racing thoughts were cut off as Dipper flew into the room without even knocking. The boy froze for a second, and his eyes flitted between Ford and Bill; then he shook his head rigorously and returned to his earlier panicky state.

“Great uncle Ford”, he said breathlessly, “when did you last check the radar?”

Ford frowned. “The anomaly radar? It… It must’ve been before we left to our expedition… Do you mean –“

“It’s happening.” Dipper clutched at his chest. “It has begun.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Impossible”, Ford muttered, eyes wide at the sight of the nearly solid circle of blinking red spots on the radar’s monitor, approaching their coordinates from all directions. “What on Earth could’ve caused this…?”

“I have a theory”, Dipper said. “The portal –“

“Dipper”, Ford interrupted and turned to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Is this theory of yours something that could bring about a possible solution? Or is it merely a hypothesis that would only complicate our understanding of the issue, ultimately diverting our attention from the immediate catastrophe at hand?”

Dipper stared at him with a startled expression that soon gave way to discouragement. “It’s… probably the latter”, he admitted hopelessly.

Ford nodded. “I see. In that case, this is no time for theories. We need action…” He glanced up at the basement’s ceiling.

“We need Bill.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he went back to his room, Bill was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eye alert and studious. They looked at each other in silence; Ford knew Bill was already fully aware of the situation… as well as the role waiting to be imposed on him. There was no time to waste.

He walked slowly to Bill, knelt down and took the small black hand in his.

“Five years ago”, he said, “after your demise, Stanley asked me a question. ‘So what now?’ he said. ‘Now’, I answered, ‘we live’.”

Bill remained quiet.

“I have lived”, Ford continued in an almost feverish tone, “thinking you were dead. I have built a new life of my own, and achieved many things I was never able to reach before. I have a family, friends… I have a place to call home.”

“To tell you the truth…” He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Stanley was the first to grow weary of the seafaring life. He told me he was too old, and wanted to settle back to the Mystery Shack after only two years at sea. I… couldn’t. I insisted that we keep on sailing, I told him we were on tracks of something bigger… I desperately sought and pursued any and all marine anomalies I could find, acting as though we were saving the world from some global threat…”

“It was a lie. I couldn’t return to Gravity Falls, because I could not bear the emptiness. This house used to be filled with your presence, its every nook and corner designed so that you could watch me and this dimension at all times… But you were no longer there, and – in my darkest hour, when we were staying in the Shack for our third summer… I thought of resurrecting you. I had already investigated the theoretical possibility for a long time. The global crisis dawning on us was merely the excuse to go through with it I had longed for.”

There were tears in his eyes as he watched the hand he was holding. “I thought I would have to reclaim myself from your influence. Now I realize that everything… Not only the me that despises you, fears you, but also my past self who trusted and admired… adored you beyond anything else… It is all part of what I am now.”

He finally raised his gaze to meet Bill’s. “I have shown you the life I’ve achieved after your death, and I truly believe it is worth fighting for”, he said, his voice clear and steady despite a single tear crawling down his face. “Now, I wish to share that life with you.” He squeezed the demon’s hand. “And I want you to fight for it by my side. That is all I ask.”

Bill watched him quietly; there was a gentle shade in his eye Ford had never seen before. His heart thrummed in painful anticipation as Bill slowly reached to wipe the stray tear off his cheek, and gave him his answer.

“No.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And [here's the NSFW extra scene](http://kindafooey.tumblr.com/post/169891348737/blood-chains-chapter-17-extra-scene-nsfw) as promised! There's nothing super explicit, so it fits within the fic's M rating. Enjoy!


	19. Arc II | Entry No. 19

* * *

 

_Entry No. 19._

_What have I done?_

 

* * *

 

”What’s the matter, huh? Cat got your tongue? I’m waiting, Fordsy! _Are you even listening to me?_ ”

Ford would’ve much rather continued facing the window, but the triangle’s voice growing gradually louder pierced his dark thoughts, leaving him no choice but to turn around.

“Yes, I heard you perfectly well. And you already know that my answer, like yours, is no.” He took a step towards Bill, all earlier warmth and understanding gone from his eyes. “I will not make a deal with you.”

Just for a second, Ford could see Bill clenching his fists before crossing his fingers on his knee in a condescending manner. “Can’t say I’m surprised”, he quipped. “In fact, I don’t know why I even bothered to ask! Really should’ve known better than think _you_ of all people could ever grow out of your selfish little streak of obstinance. Oh yes, good old Stanford Pines! When in doubt, always go with the most self-preserving option at the risk of everything else! _Typical!_ ”

Ford could’ve countered Bill’s words of mockery with ease. He could’ve stood up for himself, pointed out the irony in the demon’s insult, he could’ve patiently told Bill that protecting Gravity Falls was in both of their interest, and that a deal wasn’t by any means necessary or even reasonable in the face of the approaching situation… But Bill already knew all this.

There was no point in trying to talk sense into him. After everything… it would still burn down to this.

As though nothing had ever changed.

“That’s right, pal, run like you always do!” Bill shouted after him as he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut after him. “Return to your old cowardly ways! Embrace the misery of your true self, you sad little man!”

Ford stopped still in the stairway, breath hitching and fists shaking with the overwhelming urge to _break_ something, to escape for real, to leave this farcical excuse of life behind and never set foot in this house again.

Everything he’d told Bill only moments ago rang utterly ridiculous in his ears. _I could not bear the emptiness?_ What an absurd joke! Bill’s absence had had nothing to do with his deep-running acrimony towards this miserable old shack.

This house… his own home had failed him.

No… no. He had failed himself. He’d failed _everyone_.

 

* * *

 

Dipper was waiting for him at the end of the staircase. “What did he say?” he asked, even though his frown told Ford he’d already read Bill’s answer from the shadow upon his face.

He shook his head.

Dipper bit his lip. “No offense, Great uncle Ford, but I kind of saw this coming. I warned –”

“There’s no time”, Ford interrupted him, trying to drown his weariness under a forced resolve. “Bill refuses to cooperate with us, so we must think of something else. Let that be our priority for now.”

“Right, so… Do we have a plan B?” Dipper asked cautiously.

Ford shook his head again. “I never thought we would need one. I never thought…”

How could have he been so foolish?

“Don’t blame yourself, Great uncle Ford”, said his nephew comfortingly. “It’s been a crazy summer… The whole year has been crazy. The, uh, thing I told you about has kept me so busy that I hardly remembered how it all started in the first place. I haven’t been keeping tabs on this, either. Besides, none of us could’ve expected this to happen so soon.” He fell silent for a moment. “What exactly did Bill say? I mean, we’ve still got the upper hand, right? So maybe there’s a way…”

“No, he has the advantage over us. There is no chance for us to get him on our side…” Ford averted his eyes from the boy, “unless I make a deal with him.”

“He wants a _deal?_ ” Dipper clicked his tongue. “What are his demands? Did he specify anything?”

“No. I have made it very clear to him, in the past as well as today, that a deal is out of the question regardless of his terms or mine. Furthermore, it is no stretch to assume that he would demand all of his powers back, and probably more. He’s gotten me exactly where he wants me… I have no grounds for negotiation.”

“Well, we could always… threaten him, you know?” Dipper suggested with a hesitant hint of a smile. “Just tell him he’s gonna have hell to pay if he doesn’t comply… We could lock him up in the bunker, or…”

Ford gave his nephew a long, grave look. “You know I’m no longer in a position to do anything of the sorts.”

“Why not?” Dipper asked slowly.

“Did you not see what the path of coercion and violence had come to?” Ford said quietly. “What my other self had come to?” He realized his choice of words might’ve been a bit too harsh directed at someone who had the memory of the dreadful dimension they’d witnessed carved in his skin. “If I were to return to that same path now, everything I have learned would have been for nothing.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” Dipper scratched his elbow in an uncomfortable manner, then suddenly squared up his shoulders and looked up to his grand uncle with determined eyes. “But to be honest with you, Great uncle Ford, maybe this isn’t the right time to put nobility and lessons learnt above everything else. Maybe it’s time to put the safety of this town and our family first. So…“

“Mr. Ford?” Before Ford could answer, Soos’ head peeked out from the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt, dudes, but you’ve got a phone call, dude.”

“A phone call? From whom?”

“Didn’t say his name, but I’m pretty sure it’s old man McGucket. I think he’s the only dude in town who still uses the landline”, said Soos, scratching his chin. “Anyway, I’d go pick up if I was you, Mr. Ford, it sounded pretty urgent.”

“Oh… Yes, thank you, Soos.” Ford turned to Dipper. “Wait for me in the laboratory. Gather up everything you can find that could be of use for planning our next move.”

“Leave it to me”, Dipper nodded and left half-running without further notice.

Ford didn’t waste a second, either, as he hurried to grab the landline receiver that was put aside for him. “Stanford Pines speaking. Fiddleford, is that you?”

“Ne’er mind who’s here!” Ford could tell the man’s unusual agitation even without his snappish response. “Ya seein’ what ah’m seein’?”

Ford frowned. “What you’re… Do you mean you have also been monitoring –“

“ _Of course_ ah’ have! D’ya think yer the only one with two eyes ‘round here, that I’d trust you to – no time, there’s no time fer this! Listen, Stanford, ah’ need ya to grab Cipher and yer family an’ fly over to my quarters, in nothin’ flat!”

“You…” Ford gulped. “You want me to bring Bill to your mansion? Fiddleford, why –“

“ _No time!_ Just bring’m with! An’ shake a leg, we hafta hurry b’fore it’s too late! Everyone’s takin’ cover in this ol’ mansion, y’all better get ’ere first!”

“Fiddleford, what are you planning to do with him?” Ford asked, his voice gaining a steely edge.

In all his haste, Fiddleford managed to fall into a few seconds of silence. “Stanford Pines”, he then said slowly, with a barely noticeable enraged tremble in his words, “if ye hold this town dear, an’ if ye hold yer family dear, _ya bring the triangle with_. Giddit? …Stanford? Snap outta it an’ answer m–”

_Click._

Without uttering another word to his friend, Ford set down the receiver and stood still for a considerably long while despite how pressing the situation was, facing the flaky old wallpaper in front of him with clenched fists and a frozen stare.

Instead of joining Dipper in the basement, he turned on his heels and headed upstairs.

 

* * *

 

“Give me your hand.”

Bill turned to look at him, his glare pure disbelief. “Really, Six? I told you to keep that sentimentality –“

“For once”, Ford huffed heavily, “just for this one time, I need you to do as I say.”

Bill squinted. “No.”

Ford took a relentless step forward and reached to grab Bill’s wrist by force. Bill didn’t flinch or pull back.

Nevertheless, his stare remained hateful even as Ford unfastened the monitoring bracelet from his wrist, dropped it unceremoniously on the floor and stepped on it with his full body weight. All the faint cracking sound beneath his boot earned from the demon was a brow raised in mocking question.

“You are now as free as the rest of us”, Ford said curtly. “Free to stay… Free to leave. I will no longer dictate those decisions on your behalf. I have no such right.”

“Well, well, well”, said Bill quietly. “Justice of a broken clock, huh? But that just won’t cut it, Fordsy. You took away something that was mine, and your sad little crumbs of charity won’t do a thing to stop me from getting it back. Do you follow?”

Slowly, Ford let go of the small wrist resting in his palm. What else could’ve he possibly expected but more ingratitude? And yet, Bill was right… He owed him nothing.

“You may deserve freedom”, he said before turning away, “but no one deserves unlimited power. Not even you.”

He stood still for a moment, facing the door, waiting; but as there was no answer other than a dark glower he could feel drilling through the back of his head, he left the room in silence.

 

* * *

 

“How about this? Unicorn hair, lots of it. Sending Mabel to them again would probably result in a genocide, but if we just figure out something to bribe the unicorns with, like, uhh… horn tuners? You know, so they could listen to something else than rave music for a change? Wait, maybe they have radios for that… I dunno, but I’m sure we could reach an agreement…”

Dipper’s half-panicky enthusiasm died out as Ford shook his head. “It is no use. Unicorns are few in number, and after they were assaulted by Mabel and her friends, the better part of the local population migrated to an even more hidden location. Even if we had time to track them down – and we don’t – all the unicorn hair in the world would not be enough to shield the entire town. The magnetism is too strong.”

“Then”, Dipper grasped at his words, “what about reverse magnetism? You told me last summer that a strong enough magnetic force creates an impenetrable field around itself. Maybe we could magnify the weirdness energy we already have, enough to counter the energy coming from outside the town –“

“And leave the rest of our planet to its fate in the claws of superanomalies crazed by weirdness magnetism? Out of the question”, Ford said strictly. He fell silent. “Granted, there is a way to contain the creatures drawn here after they are all within a certain range from Bill… But that would trap the town and its residents inside the field as well. It would be an act of self-destruction. If we could evacuate the townspeople, and only I were to be left behind –“

“Out of the question, Great uncle Ford”, Dipper interrupted in turn. “No one gets left behind, okay? So reverse magnetism is off the table… What’s next? Let me just…” He leafed through the five journals spread open on the table between them in an almost feverish manner. “Uh… What if we pay Crash Site Omega a quick visit, see if we could find anything usable?”

Ford shook his head. “I spent three entire days rummaging through the spaceship remains two years ago, when I first became aware of the catastrophe looming ahead. It was a futile effort. I was only able to utilize the materials I found decades ago thanks to Bill’s instructions and the translation of the alien language he provided.”

“Damn it”, Dipper muttered. He turned back to the third journal. “Okay, let’s forget defense and focus on offense instead… This town is full of giant monsters of its own, right? Can’t we make them protect us?”

“No, that won’t work. Harnessing anomalous beings into organized action, which is the direct opposite to their natural behavior, would make them more susceptible to superdimensional contamination. It would only add to the danger we’re facing.”

“Right…” Dipper bit his lip. “Okay, what if it’s just one huge creature? Maybe we could awaken the Island Head Beast, you know, since it hates disturbance of any kind, maybe it would agree to chase away the monsters invading the town!”

“No”, said Ford. “It’s too risky. We have no means of controlling the beast.”

“Then, how about this? We use the height-altering flashlight to enlarge the tie of possession, lasso the Head Beast with it, and –“

“That won‘t do, either. We cannot enlarge the delicate microcircuits that take over the wearer’s mind without damaging them.”

Dipper fell quiet. Letting out an anxious huff, he tugged at his cap in frustration, staring blankly at the pages before him.

“Huge leafblowers?” he suggested meekly after a while. He returned Ford’s small smile, albeit with a more apologetic one. “Sorry. I’m starting to run out of ideas here.”

“I, too, thought of using the height-altering crystals for creating a shield of some kind… But that would only serve to create volume against volume. The contamination cannot be stopped by a physical blockage alone.” He looked at Dipper. “I am running out of options as well, but your suggestion did raise a good point. Perhaps we need to move on from the plausible alternatives and start considering those that don’t seem to make much sense at a first glance.”

“Nonsensical solutions? Sounds like a job for Mabel… or Grunkle Stan, or Soos, well, anyone in this town, really.”

Ford nodded. “If we can convince the people of Gravity Falls to join forces and put their heads together, it could well bring about the answer none of us would ever think of on our own.” He glanced thoughtfully at the anomaly radar. “Fiddleford mentioned he will be using his mansion as an evacuation site. Furthermore, he possesses tools and technology far beyond anything we have in our use in the Mystery Shack.”

“So you’re saying we should head to McGucket’s place after all?” Dipper asked.

“I’m afraid we have no choice”, said Ford. A tight grip of anxiety pressed his chest at the thought, but his nephew was faster to voice the real reason for it.

“Then… What are we gonna do about Bill?”

 

* * *

 

The following night felt one of the longest Ford had ever had to live through.

The Mystery Shack had originally been his property, but it didn’t make it any less difficult for him to tell the Ramirez they’d have to leave their own home in the dead of night, with no guarantee that they could ever return to it again. Leaving the Shack to its fate hurt him as well; it had been the stage to so many defining moments of his life, and no matter how big a relief it had been to leave the house behind after Bill’s demise…

Things had changed.

Soos and Melody took the news with the carefree matter-of-factness they always did; Melody gave him an odd glance as he advised the family with what to pack with them, but said nothing. Ford was grateful for her silence – for now. He knew she wouldn’t like some of the decisions he would soon be forced to make.

The kids were already swift and experienced packers from all the past summers Mabel had stalled their leave for Piedmont until the last minute; besides, Dipper had made one of his elaborate lists in case of an emergency evacuation the moment he’d learned of the approaching crisis, and was now running all around the house, making the family go over their belongings and pedantically checking his list in turns.

It all went over relatively smoothly, all things considered.

Ford, accustomed to only carrying bare necessities with him from his fugitive years, saw it best to hole himself up in the basement and pretend to be busy in order to avoid any questions he couldn’t provide an answer for. He listened to the patterns of hasty footsteps echoing from above, buried his head into his palms and searched for a way out, to no avail.

It wasn’t until everyone was ready, loading their bags on the porch as the first rays of the morning sun peeked through the woods, when Ford finally climbed up the stairs to meet Bill.

“Can you still not float?” he asked, slightly concerned as he found Bill sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where he had been during his last visit.

Bill shrugged in a sarcastic manner. “Maybe I can. Maybe I can’t. I just choose not to, because I have the freedom to do so, right, Fordsy?”

This was one of the times when Ford couldn’t really understand where the edge of Bill’s mockery was aimed at. Not that he wanted to.

“So hey, what’s with the hustle downstairs?” That, too, came off as rather strange; Bill wasn’t in the habit of asking questions that weren’t either rhetorical or plain confusing.

“We’re leaving the house”, Ford said quietly. “You… cannot come with us.”

“Good!” Bill leant back as if searching for a more relaxed position. “Wasn’t planning to.”

“Fiddleford is out to harness your powers”, Ford continued, “in ways that are likely to severely harm you. I cannot allow that… but your safety isn’t guaranteed in the Mystery Shack, either.”

Bill glared back at him with nothing but contempt, but it was as if Ford was immune to it. He had no time to be distracted.

“Seek shelter outside this house”, he told the demon. “You know this town and its surroundings perhaps better than anyone else. In my subjective opinion, the perfect place to hide –“

“Let me walk you back to a week ago, my friend”, Bill interrupted him harshly. “Remember when you said you want me to leave? _Remember what I told you I_ _’_ _d do?_ ”

 _Then I_ _’_ _ll stay._

Ford gulped, his hands clenching into fists. “In that case, I…”

Bill made a tut-tutting sound and wagged his finger at the man. “You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you? Change of rules, pal! One could say we’ve reached an agreement – a deal, even! Our thirty years of animosity has come full circle, so to speak! I had your full attention and you had mine, and that friction met its bittersweet end! Now that I think of it, that full circle is looking an awful lot like zero! _Ha!_ ”

“Full… circle?” Despite himself, Ford felt a small pinch of embarrassment in his stomach. “Are you, perhaps, referring t–“

“ _You_ s _hut up_.” For a moment, Bill’s expression sharpened to something less scornful. “ _Not a damn word of it_. Not in this realm or the next, got it? And if _you_ ever so much as _dance_ around the topic, I will empty your eye sockets while you sleep – Anyway, as I was saying…”

He cleared his throat and turned on his earlier look of utter ridicule. “Let’s make it easy for your little human brain to understand. I couldn’t care less what you want or don’t want me to do. Ruffling your feathers is no longer worth the effort, so I’ll just do whatever I please instead!”

“I… I see.” Ford gulped. “At the very least”, he then said slowly, “you seem to have grown out of your hatred towards me you once sworn by.” The remark was oddly ironic, but he wasn’t humored by it in the slightest.

Bill gave him an almost gracious look. “Frankly, my dear”, he said softly, “I don’t give a damn.”

A long silence followed. Then, without saying a word, Ford knelt down.

“Really? Again?” Bill made a show of rolling his eye. “What next, a _ring?_ ”

For a fleeting second, Ford’s six fingers reaching for what was left of Bill’s monitoring bracelet on the floor froze; chills ran all across his skin from the sheer intention to hurt the demon’s voice was dripping with.

“I mean, sheesh”, Bill continued ruthlessly, “never thought I’d be the guy to say this, but don’t make it weird, buddy.”

Ford gritted his teeth. Instead of handing Bill the small piece of technology he was holding, he simply threw it on the bed.

“I may no longer be able to track you”, he said as he straightened up, “but this circuit will give you the coordinates of my monitor, should you ever wish to find me.”

“That’s cute, but won’t need it.”

Ford didn’t bother to answer, and for a moment, they stared at each other in silence.

“Are you really going to do this?” he then asked, shaking his head slowly in quiet disbelief. “Would you deliberately risk your whole existence just to spite me?”

Bill groaned. “Oh well, maybe it’ll get through to you when I explain it for the _third_ time. Try getting this into your thick skull, okay? Bill Cipher and deliberation don’t live under the same roof!”

“Then”, Ford tried, despite knowing it was futile, “why are you doing this?”

“Deal’s a deal”, Bill said in a nonchalant tone, but his eye was full of malice.

“I did not make a deal with you.”

“You think I have the time and patience to expect the other end to hold up itself? In this economy? Grow old, kid.” He crossed his legs. “Sometimes a guy’s gotta drag a dead horse to water, and that’s all there is to it. Can’t teach a puppet to drink, either!”

Ford couldn’t possibly keep up with Bill’s convoluted metaphor, but the message lying underneath didn’t miss him.

He couldn’t deny it, either. Bill was right. At that moment he really did feel like a helpless puppet, unable to utter a single word to defend himself or move an inch from where he was standing. He’d given up all control over the situation. It had been the right thing to do – he had no doubt – but now he found himself not knowing whether their paths would ever cross again.

“So are we done here?” he heard Bill ask in a bored tone as if to confirm his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be with your precious little family right now?”

What a bleak farewell this would be… He couldn’t bear to look at anywhere near Bill, and yet the demon’s dull glare seemed to catch the corner of his eye no matter where they were directed at.

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

They would meet again.

But for now, there was nothing left to say; so he forced himself to turn his back on Bill, and with heavy steps, he walked out of the room.

 

* * *

 

“Ready to go, Mr. Ford?” Soos asked him cheerfully as he joined the rest of the family waiting outside the house. “Wonder what’s taking Mr. Bill so long. It’s not like he’s got a lot of packing to do, I mean, all he owns is the sweater Hambone made him, right?”

“Mittens, too”, Mabel reminded. “I also made him a tiny woolly hat, but he refuses to wear it, because he’s a snob.”

“He isn’t coming with us”, Ford muttered.

It was odd to see Soos so completely stupefied. “Wait. What?”

“Ford, are you serious?” Melody chimed in immediately and tightened her grip on her son, whose curious eyes had spotted the magnet gun in Ford’s holster. “You can’t be serious.”

“I fear Fiddleford is planning to use him for a dangerous experiment. I cannot force him in harm’s way.”

“But we can’t just leave him here, right?” Mabel tried as well, glancing at her brother in search of support. “You told me last summer he’s the weirdness magnet or whatever, so wouldn’t that mean the monsters are coming right his way? He can’t face them all alone!”

“Mabel, are _you_ volunteering to tell McGucket that the safety of that floating psycho is more important than saving the world?” Dipper said with a frown, knowing from a familiar unhappy crinkle around his twin’s mouth to step back before she would trample his toes as a comeback.

“I didn’t say that, dum-dum! All I’m saying is maybe we should hide him somewhere before –“

“It was his own decision”, Ford interrupted with a shade of annoyance in his voice. No matter what choices he made regarding Bill, it seemed his family would always be inclined to oppose him. He’d thought Stanley, at the very least, would be happy to agree with him this time…

“Wait”, he uttered suddenly, looking around. “Where is Stanley?”

“Oh, he said he had one last thing to do”, Soos told him and straightened his fez. “Anyway, dude, I don’t think Mr. Bill can –“

“Soos, do you even remember why my brother was hospitalized in the first place?” Ford cut him off harshly. “We must not let him out of our sight, especially at a time like this. Where did he go?”

“I think he went… that way?” Dipper turned to point at the edge of the forest behind the house, and suddenly his face twisted with a startled grimace. “Where all the, uh, smoke is coming from?”

“What the –”

“Grunkle Stan!” the twins burst out and set off running with their other great uncle in tow towards the thick tower of smoke they could see coming from the forest. The small exploding sound that followed their scream didn’t make it seem any less alarming.

They all let out a sigh of relief when they saw Stan slouching towards them, scratching his head.

“Stanley!” Ford exclaimed. “What happened? What did you –“

“Yeesh”, Stan said and held up his hands. “Relax, folks, I was only away for, what, ten minutes?”

“ _What did you do_ , Grunkle Stan?”

“Burned the car, of course”, answered Stan as though it was obvious.

Ford’s mouth fell open. “You… You what?”

“Yeah, I mean, that’s the only thing they’d recognize me for these days, right?”

“ _Who_ –“

“Well, I could’ve probably pushed it off a cliff or somethin’, now that I think about it.” He scratched his chin for a moment before his face lit up with a grin. “But hey, I’m a showman. Who doesn’t love a nice bonfire, am I right? And I’m pretty sure the old devil always wanted to go out with a bang.”

“Grunkle Stan, who are you talking about?” Dipper asked, giving a wary glance at Ford.

Stan frowned. “The dun and his guys, of course. Didn’t you hear the announcement? Sure you did – the sound of McGucket screaming into some kind of a gigantic megaphone is pretty hard to miss, heh. He said the monsters are coming, I mean, who else could it possibly…”

It was painful to watch realization, followed by shame, creep upon the old man’s face.

“Stanley –“

“Right, I get it”, Stan grunted sharply. “I get it! I fucked this one up. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from his brother and the kids.

“Language”, Ford said in a feeble tone. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah, yeah, do you mind dropping that too? They’re almost adults now.”

“I… Yes, of course. That is a fair point.”

“Dudes”, they heard Soos shout as he jogged to them from the front yard, “I hate to bring bad news, but the car is gone.” He stopped as he saw the bleak faces and Stan’s turned back. “Oh no. Let me guess, this is Pterodactyl Bros all over again. No, hold on, was it Steve? Did Steve the big wood dude steal the car? Oh, wait – maybe it was Abuelita. She’s gone, too. Then again, she pretty much leaves and enters as she pleases, kind of like a housecat. So no worries there.”

“The car is gone regardless of who took it”, Ford said instantly to distract everyone from Stan’s hunched figure – though he wasn’t quite able to distract Trevor, who was pointing at the smoke with a torrent of excited attempts of words and babbling. “We must think of another means of transportation.”

Melody watched his strained expression and chucked an elbow at Soos, who was unusually fast to catch up with the situation. “Well, we could call a cab. And I’ve got my pick-up truck at Abuelita’s old house”, he suggested with a conciliatory smile. “We could walk there, it’s just past the woods. Still a tad easier than walking all the way to the mansion, right?”

“That is true”, Ford joined in, granting Soos a grateful smile. “And I’d rather we have a vehicle in our immediate use in case we need to relocate ourselves quickly from Fiddleford’s manor.”

Dipper nodded. “Then let’s get moving and pick up the, uh, pick-up. Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan”, he then added as Stan finally turned back to them, but was still facing the other way. “Mistakes happen.”

“Yeah”, Stan spat out, “like that one time I pushed my brother into a sci-fi machine and lost him for thirty years.”

“And yet, you fought”, Ford said sternly, “and eventually managed to bring me back. Now, we must do the same – move past our mistakes and fight.”

Soos nodded. “That’s right, dog. As my Abuelita always says, you can’t spell ‘bummer’ without, uh, ‘ummer’. No, wait…” He scratched his chin. “’Blooper’ without ‘ooper’? No, wait, wait… Dudes, let me think back a little bit…”

“Just lead the way while you think, honey.”

“Right, right… ‘Error’ without… ‘ror’…?”

Stan still avoided looking anywhere near the rest of the family as they walked into the forest, but the creases around his mouth were a little less grumpy.

He wasn’t the only one in a bad mood, Ford thought as he approached Melody, who was struggling with carrying her bag in one arm and Trevor in another. “Please, allow me to help”, he said cautiously. “I have a backpack, so both of my hands are free.”

Trevor peeked at him quizzically from his mother’s shoulder. “Bagel?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“’Bagel’?” Ford repeated. “Is he hungry?”

“No”, said Melody in a rather dull tone. “He’s asking for his floating friend. He thinks it’s like saying ‘Bill’ and ‘triangle’ on the same go.”

“Oh… I see. That is quite clever of him.”

“Takes after his daddy, I guess. Maybe we should’ve named him Moose after all.”

Ford’s relief when Melody shoved her bag to his reached hand was washed down considerably by the icy look she gave him.

“I can’t believe you left him behind.”

“I did not – _leave_ him…” Ford heaved a sigh. “As I said before, it was his own decision. I granted him the freedom to choose, and he refused any help or advice I could’ve given him. He wants nothing to do with us, least of all with me. I cannot force him to leave the house.”

“Oh, yes, you can.”

Ford frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“He’s got the chains, right?” Melody all but lashed out. “Blood Chains or whatever they were called. Why didn’t you just, oh, I don’t know, drag him out by force?”

“Like I said”, Ford said, trying to suppress the irk that accumulated in his chest at Melody’s provoking tone of voice, “it was his own choice. For the first time since his resurrection, I did right by him and let him make his own decision instead of forcing him under my will.”

“Bagel”, Trevor commented in turn. “Bah-bah-babagel. Boo.”

Melody took a better hold of her son. “Well, you know what? Trevor didn’t want to leave the house, either, and he definitely didn’t want to leave Bill behind. So maybe I should’ve left him, too? That’s not how it works, Stanford!”

“Bill isn’t a child”, Ford pointed out in a grim tone.

“That’s right”, Melody hissed. “He isn’t. He’s a _baby_. A whiny little baby who doesn’t know his own limits, who has no idea what to do when he gets wet or cold or tired, who can’t even make his own cup of tea! He’s a defiant, stubborn, clueless big talker of a baby, and you left him alone in the house.”

“Melody… He ridiculed me.” Ford swallowed, fighting down the bitterness in his voice.

Melody looked directly into his eyes; her gaze was no longer condemning, only serious. “Is that the only argument you have left?”

Ford stopped still.

Somehow, without him realizing, they’d arrived to the clearing where Bill’s petrified form had stood… until fourteen months ago, when he’d lifted it off the ground and carried it to his bunker, brushed off the moss to reveal the familiar features of his lifelong enemy.

“I have to go back”, he muttered under his breath.

Hadn’t he sworn to never allow himself to be driven into a corner by that looming eye again? That no matter what foul slander and hurtful accusations Bill may spew on him, he would not let him get under his skin and sway his determination?

_Was Bill not his cross to bear?_

Dipper turned on his heels. “Great uncle Ford?”

“I… I apologize”, Ford stammered. “You go ahead. I made a terrible mistake… I must return to the Mystery Shack at once.”

“Hold up right there, Grunkle Ford”, said Mabel and put her hands on her hips. “Didn’t you learn anything from our dimension trip? If you think we’re gonna just leave you behind after what happened in that cave, you’re sorely mistaken, mister!”

“Bill and I are bound to each other!” Ford shouted in fervor as if he’d hardly heard Mabel’s words. “I should’ve never let his antipathy cloud my judgment. I shouldn’t have let him stay behind!” In a sudden fit of distress, he began pacing around the place where Bill’s physical remains had been. “I took his powers away, he cannot even defend himself! He was right… I didn’t grant him freedom, I was the one who stole it from him in the first place. I accepted that burden when I brought him back – he’s my responsibility…”

“He’s not wrong”, Melody noted to Soos, who looked uncertain as to how he should react.

“I dunno, dude, I think Mabes might be right. Splitting up here seems like a bad idea.” He moved towards the agitated man. “Uh, Mr. Ford? I wouldn’t worry about Mr. Bill if I were you.”

“Agreed”, Dipper put in bitterly. “So some superpowered anomaly makes him a little less symmetrical, big whoop. Comeuppance, I say.”

“Dude, that’s rough. Disagreed.” Soos made a stop sign with his hands and cleared his throat. “Anyway, he may be small, but he’s a tough lil’ dude. If he was a playable character in Fight Fighters, I’d pick him in a blink. And hey, he wanted to stay back, so maybe he’s got a plan –“

“No, he doesn’t!” Ford retorted fiercely. “He has told me this himself. He does not plan ahead!”

Soos startled at his sharp tone of voice and took a step back; Mabel ran towards her grunkle in his stead. “Grunkle Ford, you need to calm down and listen to Mabel”, she said as she squared in front of Ford, forcing him to stop his pacing. She reached to take a gentle grip on his face and lowered her voice. “Are you listening now?”

Ford took a deep breath. “Yes, Mabel. I am listening.”

“Good.” Mabel’s expression softened a little. “Dipper was fooled by Bill for the bleventeenth time, plus he’s stupid, so he doesn’t get it. But I know how much you care about him, okay? To tell you the truth…” For a moment, she looked a bit apologetic. “I saw you guys dancing the other day. I was coming to talk to you about Dipper, but the door was open, and… I didn’t want to disturb you two.”

“Oh.” Ford felt his cheeks heat up slightly under Mabel’s palms. When would he learn to make sure the damn door was closed? “Well, technically speaking, we weren’t exactly dancing… It was more of a physical argument, or a battle of wills, if you may.”

“With a sappy soundtrack?” Mabel grinned.

“With a, well, rather sappy soundtrack”, Ford admitted with a small, awkward smile. “In any case, I… suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find that you’ve discovered the true nature of our relationship.”

“Don’t be ashamed, Grunkle Ford”, the girl comforted him. “Of course you’d grow attached to him. He’s like a brother you never had!”

“Wh– I…” Ford blinked rapidly. “I do have a brother”, he managed to blurt out amidst his confusion.

“I know”, Mabel giggled, “but Grunkle Stan is, well, Grunkle Stan. And I mean, Dipper is great and I love him more than anyone, but sometimes I feel like Waddles is the only one who really understands me, you know?”

Ford struggled to maintain a straight face. “You are comparing Bill and me to you and… your pet pig.”

“Exactly!” Mabel nodded proudly. “Pretty sure you guys don’t do ice cream sampling vlogs together, but you’re a dynamic duo, just like us! Think about it: he’s from outer space, you went to outer space… He’s weird stuff, and you probably have a doctorate or two on weird stuff… And you’re both smart! Dipper is smart too, and… between you and me, Grunkle Ford, I can’t really keep up with him anymore. Summers here are nice, but sometimes I really, really wish Waddles was here, too.” For a moment, her voice took a sadder note. “Anyway, I know what you’re going through, I do! Remember when I told you about that one time when Waddles was nearly snatched away right under my nose by – _Pacifica_?”

It wasn’t until Mabel suddenly let go of Ford’s face and ran off that he realized she hadn’t, in fact, finished her sentence.

“Oh… It’s you guys.”

When he turned to where Mabel was hurrying, he saw a distantly familiar figure standing in the shadows, waving awkwardly as the whole family’s attention was drawn to her. “Hey.”

Mabel, who was only a couple of steps away from the stranger, froze in the middle of what was evidently an attack hug and made finger guns at her. “Girl, you look _fantabulous_ in all black!” she whispered in an almost scandalized tone.

“Thanks, I know”, said Pacifica, still hiding under the rim of her stylish fedora. She leaned forward at the sight of Mabel’s beaming smile. “Hey, are you… still wearing braces?”

“Nah! It’s tooth jewelry”, Mabel corrected her cheerfully, showing off the row of little star-shaped gems on her teeth. “I designed them myself! Once I become the fashion queen of the art school, they’ll be back in style in no time.”

“Yeah, sure”, nodded Pacifica with a small smile that was surprisingly genuine. “They’re nice, actually.”

“Okay, enough compliments and… girl stuff”, Dipper threw in as Mabel let out an excited squeal and jumped to give her past rival a quick hug. “What are you doing here, Pacifica? Weren’t you off to some fancy private school or something?”

Pacifica tried to cover her slightly blushed cheeks with an annoyed frown as she stepped away from Mabel. “I used to live here, dummy. Can’t a girl visit her home?”

“I mean _here_ -here, in the middle of the forest. It’s just a bit weird for a coincidence, that’s all.”

“Well, I don’t know? Rural charm, I guess. Fresh air, landscape, animal droppings, you know”, Pacifica muttered evasively. “It’s not like I was dragged here by force or anything.”

“You should’ve told us you were in town”, Mabel said, peering at the girl through her accusingly squinted eyelids. “I always wanted to visit you in Roswell, but you never gave me your number.”

Dipper gave a start. “Hold on. Roswell?” he repeated. “You go to a private school in _Roswell_? But there’s only one private school there, and it’s a – _wait_.” He gasped loudly. “You’re a student of Lt. Blanchard Select Private High?”

Pacifica grimaced a little. “Uh, yeah. So?”

“Yeah, Dipper, what’s the big deal? I thought we agreed not to be mean about the fact that she’s rich.”

“Mabel, it’s not just any school! They offer special classes there, I can’t believe you never told me – come on, it’s not like she’d go to a tiny Southern town like Roswell for any other reason! I bet she didn’t borrow all those books from me to make her application photo look convincing, either! You –“ he pointed at Pacifica, “– are training to be a paranormal investigator!”

“What? I – that’s –“

Now it was Mabel’s turn to gasp loudly. “Pacifica! You’re _weird!_ ”

“Exactly! That’s why she’s here!”

“Weirdness magnetism”, Ford wondered out loud a little distance away from the youth, causing everyone to turn to him. “It does make sense. Perhaps you were dragged here by force after all. Miss Northwest –“

“Just call me Pacifica”, the girl swished off the honorifics; embarrassed of her revealed secret, she was now playing with her smartphone, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“All right. Pacifica, have you felt a strange pull towards Gravity Falls as of late?”

“Well, I was coming for a visit, anyway, but… yeah, I guess I’ve felt more compelled during the past couple of weeks. And I did have problems steering my jet on our way here, like it had a mind of its own or something.”

“You have a private jet?” Dipper asked, appalled. “Weren’t you supposed to be less rich than before? That’s overkill!”

“You _fly_ a private jet?” Mabel joined in, but her tone was mostly admiring. “Never mind being rich, that’s _inspirational!_ ”

Pacifica frowned. “Guys, I appreciate being in the center of everyone’s attention and all, but don’t we have more important things to focus on, like figuring out what’s going on with this town?”

“Why don’t _you_ tell us, Miss Northwestigator?” Mabel suggested with her trademark eyebrow wiggle.

At last, Pacifica raised her gaze from her smartphone screen. She seemed to be swaying between another surge of annoyance and a cautious hope to be taken seriously. She decided to follow the latter. “Well… I sensed something was off when I came here, so I thought, why not put my studies into use?”

“And northwestigate!” Mabel squealed in approval.

Pacifica rolled her eyes before continuing. “Naturally, I thought the best place to start would be where that crazy triangle was turned to stone”, she said, gesturing towards the place where Bill’s petrified form had stood. “But it’s obviously gone, which gives me all the more reason to believe that this has got something to do with that guy’s stony corpse. Since you’re all here, too, I guess you’re thinking along the same lines? Or…” She gave Dipper a sharp look. “Do you know something that I don’t?”

“Bill Cipher is alive”, Ford said bluntly before anyone else could comment. “Last summer, I resurrected him in order to restore the balance to the global weirdness magnetism his demise had destabilized. Now, due to an unexpected series of events, the magnetic force has culminated beyond our control. An army of anomalous beings surrounded by excessive weirdness energy that leaked from the Nightmare Realm during Weirdmageddon is closing down on Gravity Falls, and we must stop them before they unleash yet another reign of terror and mindless destruction upon this town, and eventually the whole world.”

“Geez”, Pacifica muttered. “Well, this is still better than having dinner with my parents. So what’s the plan? I heard McGucket hollering something about an evacuation, but we’re not backing out, are we?”

“That’s the plan, actually”, confirmed Dipper. “Great uncle Ford and I are out of options, so we’re heading to McGucket’s place to see if he and the rest of the townspeople can help us figure this out. Kind of like crowdsourcing, you know? Fight concentrated weirdness with concentrated weirdness.”

Pacifica raised an eyebrow. “Really? You and your genius uncle have nothing? What about that triangle guy, couldn’t he be used to –”

“Trust me”, Dipper interrupted, “we’ve thought every option through at least two or three times. Let’s just get to your old mansion and take it from there, all right? We need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Uh, whatever, I’m just trying to bounce ideas here”, Pacifica threw back at him. “What happened to crowdsourcing? Am I not weird enough for you guys?”

“Oh, you’re weird enough, no argument there. You think flying a jet at the age of seventeen is normal?”

“I’m eighteen! My birthday was in February.”

“Still weird.”

Mabel turned to look at Ford, who was still standing a little apart from them as if ready to take the opposite direction. “Grunkle Ford? You’re coming with us, right?”

“Stanford”, Melody uttered in a low, warning tone.

Ford looked over his shoulder hesitantly. They weren’t that far away from the Shack just yet… He could still return for Bill and catch up with the rest of the family before they took off. But would Bill even be in the house anymore?

Did he really have it in him to face the demon again with nothing but threats, restraints and coercion?

He turned to look at his brother, who hadn’t said a word or even taken his hands out of his pockets ever since they’d left the Shack.

Ford shook his head lightly. He was needed here.

“I must put my family before him”, he said quietly to Melody before raising his voice. “Let us proceed. Soos, lead the way.”

“He _is_ family, Ford.”

“No. He isn’t.” As Ford started walking, he could feel Melody glooming at him behind his back, just like Bill had done before he’d left the house. “Not unless he chooses so himself.”

 

* * *

 

Fiddleford’s manor was surrounded by hastily parked cars and tractors, and judging from the discordant murmur, most of the town had already gathered to the front yard. The speech Ford and Melody had given to the townsfolk some weeks ago appeared to have served its purpose – some of the younger residents were sniffling, and a few of the adults occasionally threw a fearful glance at the sky or each other, but most people were standing on guard, armed with farm tools or whatever was at hand that would pass for an emergency weapon. There was no panic, no mass hysteria, no tirades for smoking out a scapegoat. For the citizens of Gravity Falls – save for Tad Strange – this was abnormally normal behavior.

Fiddleford was waiting for them at the gates. Ford frowned with worry as he saw the old mechanic hamboning as if without even noticing it himself. He hadn’t seen him hambone in years.

Their host started off towards them as soon as they found enough space for parking.

“Uh-oh”, said Soos as he stepped out of the car. “Hurricane McGucket approaches.” He tapped his chin. “Wouldn’t bat an eye I heard that in a ranchy wrestling show.”

“D’ya bring’m?” Fiddleford let out a high-pitched bark as soon as his eyes met Ford’s. “ _D_ _’_ _ya bring_ _’_ _m, Stanford?_ ”

Ford answered his gaze, preparing for the worst. “No, Fiddleford, I did not. Bill isn’t with us. In fact, I asked him not to come.”

Fiddleford stopped still. His eye twitched.

“I knowingly acted against your demand”, Ford continued in a slightly softened tone of voice, taking a step towards his old friend. “However, I never meant to disrespect our friendship. Yet I see that is how it must appear to you, and for that, I apologize. I know well what you are planning to do with Bill, and I cannot let it come to that. I hope you understand.”

Fiddleford said nothing; his furious stare was locked onto the blank screen of the monitor attached to Ford’s wrist.

Without a word, he stepped up to Ford and grabbed his hand.

“Ain’t no signal in this”, he muttered. “D’he do somethin’…” Once again, his eyes traveled up to meet Ford’s. “…did _you_ …?”

“I destroyed his monitoring bracelet”, Ford said curtly. “The weirdness magnetism gravitates the superanomalies right in his direction. I cannot keep him confiscated in the danger zone. He needs to be able to leave the house and hide, should it come to that.”

Slowly, Fiddleford let go of him and took several steps back. His entire face was now twitching; Ford had never seen him like this before.

“Fiddleford?”

He watched in confusion as the mechanic circled him, placing himself between him and the rest of the family. He backed out, forcing the family to step away from Ford along with himself.

“Uh, McGucket?” Mabel asked with a cocked brow. “What gives?”

“Stay b’hind, gals’n fellers”, Fiddleford stammered, shielding them with his bad arm while his other hand reached for something in the pocket of his overalls. “I don’t fancy doin’ this, but he gone too far. He gone too far this time!”

Ford’s breath caught in his throat. He felt his undaunting resolve fade at yet another warning gesture he’d come to recognize all too well.

He should’ve known to expect something like this.

“I have seen that look not long ago in someone else’s eyes”, he said. “Are you, too, going to aim a gun at me?”

Pacifica snorted. “Yeah, right.”

But Ford’s premonition was right; nevertheless, his blood ran cold when he saw the lightbulb-like barrel of what could only be a revised version of Fiddleford’s memory gun raised to point right at his forehead.

“Yer gone blind, m’friend”, the mechanic growled. “Too many castles built’n crumbled. Someone’s gotta clean the rubble off yer mind.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” The scene was enough to make Stan finally speak up. “This again? You gotta be kidding me! No guns around Stanley Junior, how many times do I need to say it?”

“Never mind the baby”, Pacifica yelped, pointing at the manor. “This house is haunted enough! No one gets shot here under my watch, got it?” She turned to look cluelessly at Dipper and Mabel. “Seriously, guys, what’s going on here? These old nerds go way back, right? Why are they at each other’s throats now?”

“Well, it all started in nineteen–“ Mabel began, but her brother silenced her with a swift shake of his head.

Pacifica was still unhappy. “Shouldn’t we help your uncle?” she whispered. “Isn't anybody going to interfere?”

“He’s got this”, Dipper muttered; he’d taken notice of the small gesture Ford had made with his hand, ordering the youth to stay put. “Great uncle Ford knows what he’s doing.”

“Hey, McGucket!” A familiar voice lashed from the gates of the manor; the townsfolk were all peering at the unfolding situation, Wendy standing in the front row with Candy and Grenda as backup. She pointed a finger over her shoulder. “The giant robots and junk you’ve got in your yard? Real cool stuff, I can’t believe I haven’t hung out here before. But this?” She gestured at the memory gun, and her brow furrowed in disapproval. “ _Not_ cool. At all.”

“Yeah! You’re ackin’ cray-cray, old man!” Mabel joined in. “Don’t make me use my grappling hook on that stupid gun!”

Dipper looked a bit more hesitant. “Listen, McGucket”, he started, “I know how it looks. And you know what? I even agree with you. Leaving Bill behind and refusing to use his powers by force is, well… not the smartest decision Great uncle Ford has ever made.” He avoided Ford’s gaze at the words. “But you know, I’ve been wrong about him before. I even held him at gunpoint, just like you. Needless to say, that didn’t go well.”

“ _What?_ ” Pacifica mouthed noiselessly.

“Can confirm”, Candy nodded beside Wendy.

“OH MY GOD! WHAT’S WITH ALL THE GUN-SLINGING LATELY?” Grenda roared.

“Yeah, it’d be much cooler with swords”, Soos commented, crossing his arms. “Hey, he’s not really gonna shoot, right? This is just like one of those epic anime standoffs, and then someone’s gonna jump in the way with, like, sparkly tears and stuff. I bet it’s gonna be Hambone. Don’t you worry, pumpkin”, he told Melody, who was glaring daggers at both men facing each other. “Once again, anime will save us all.”

“Fiddleford, please, be rational”, Ford spoke up, encouraged by the others defending him. _He won_ _’_ _t do it._ “We agreed to join forces in order to stop the threat we’re facing. My memories of Bill are deeply intertwined with more than a half of my entire lifetime. If you erase them, my mind will collapse… Just like yours did in the past.”

“This ain’t like the gun ah’ invented way back when”, Fiddleford said, keeping his aim steady. _He won_ _’_ _t do it._ “It’s a new model, all comped just fer this darn deed. It don’t wipe all yer memories… just the ones where ya don’t recall his evil.”

Ford felt a small shudder in his spine. “Are you planning to limit my memories of Bill to the ones filled with hatred?” he asked, numb with disbelief. “Do you have any idea what that could result in?”

“McGucket, that’s insane!” Dipper shouted. “That’s – that’s brainwashing!”

“A fine word fer it, boy”, Fiddleford snarled in response. “Needa wash that big ol’ brain of Cipher’s foul tricks. I ain’t the one who lost m’wits this time ‘round, dont’cha know!”

“We are on the brink of an emergency! Can you not trust my judgment this one time?” Now Ford, too, was raising his voice. “After everything I have done to save this town, for all these years!”

Fiddleford took a hasty step back; as when he realized the family he was shielding wasn’t backing away with him, he rushed forward instead. “ _Trust?_ _”_ he all but shrieked _._ “Y’all got no right to talk trust, Stanford! Ah’ know what ya wrote in that journal, ah’ know what ya told the boy! _Trust no one!_ But it was all a crooked deal, an’ now ya got yer whole family in it, too! Yer just like’m… just a lil’ puppet doin’ his bidding, y’hear?”

“ _I am not a puppet!_ ”

“Chill out, Doc!” Wendy lashed at him angrily. “You’re only proving his point!”

“I am completely calm”, said Ford, very much untruthfully. “And I know he won’t do it… Despite our disagreements, he is my friend. He wouldn’t put me through the same spiral of lunacy my past heedless acts threw him into. He will not do it.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly convinced here”, Wendy answered, sounding slightly uncomfortable. “I mean… He’s got a point, man. If you’ve really forgotten how much of a dangerous psycho that triangle is, then… where’s the harm in tweaking your memory a bit? What if _he_ ’s the one who brainwashed you in the first place?”

Ford froze. “You cannot be…” He looked around; the townspeople standing in the gateway and on the wall surrounding the manor were glancing at each other, shrugging in quiet agreement.

Save for Mabel’s gutsy threat, no one so far had made an attempt to disarm Fiddleford.

And Mabel couldn’t save him on her own… They were all waiting for him to save himself.

He turned back to Fiddleford. “Last year, you warned me not to try and shoulder the responsibility of saving the world on my own”, he said quietly. “Are you really prepared to make the same mistake?”

“Thirty-some years ago, ya gone turn’d a blind eye on all m’warnings”, the mechanic hissed. “If that ain’t changed now… ah’ reckon we were never partners t’start with.”

Ford remained silent.

“Please”, he said at last, “don’t do this.”

 _He won_ _’_ _t do it. He wouldn_ _’_ _t_ _…_

“I wish ah’ could say’m sorry”, answered Fiddleford, his eyes lost and rueful for a fleeting moment before darkening again, “but ah’ really ain’t sorry at all.”

Until his very last word, Ford couldn’t bring himself to believe his old friend would press his finger down on the trigger; and when he did, even the old fugitive’s abnormally sharp reflexes were too little too late.

 

* * *

 

_Good riddance, you old fool._

Bill stared down in disgust at the tracking device piece he’d kicked off the bed. _Here_ _’_ _s to never seeing your arrogant face again._

The more bugged out anomalies would take care of that for him.

Slowly, he lifted himself up from the bed and floated lightly through the air. Easy. Now, off to test the limits of his freedom… But first…

With a cheerful little hum, he headed downstairs.

Easy as pie.

This time, the teacup was sparkling clean. This time, Bill had known not to fill the kettle to the brim, so he could still lift it; this time, the mixture of jasmine blossoms and tea leaves was perfect.

Everything was perfect… well, giving the circumstances.

Bill gave himself a rather relaxed mental pat on the figurative shoulder. Give a guy a free hand, and his natural talent at doing everything flawlessly comes rolling right back in.

For half a quarter second times two, his mind harked back to Sixer. For another nanoscale time unit, he almost wished that deformed freak had been there to witness his tea-preparing finesse, just to rub in the superiority of Bill Cipher to everything this sad little mortal life had to offer, nice and deserving. But no, that dimwitted human only saw what was right in front of him.

Could he be missing the undivided attention of his go-to puppet at the dawn of his victory? Hah! He’d get over it.

No more of that stupid flap door; he simply slipped through the front door that had been left open, holding the teacup in his hands.

At last, the world was his oyster! Or, well, at least his speeding lane. He’d get to the seafood department later, once this pesky little fleshcage had been taken care of. For a moment he considered slamming himself against a defined spot on the ground for an undetermined amount of time until it would cave in and cause the whole planet to collapse into itself. He decided against it, as the thought of perpetual physical agony was no more as appealing to him as it used to be, but he would definitely give it a shot once he’d regained his ability to vary his size at will.

He rose lazily up towards the sky, above the treetops, expecting to see the rising sun. But something else caught his attention instead: narrow gashes all across the horizon, like a visual drum roll.

Oh, yes. _There come the little terrors._

What a sight for a sore eye! He wanted to holler with unrestrained laughter, shoot into every direction at once and greet his new little cronies-to-be with a horror show that would make this whole town wake up to its own scream, smash his teacup against the faraway ground out of sheer excitement – then again, that would’ve been a waste of perfectly good tea and fine china. So he crossed his legs, took a sip out of his cup and waited.

Why would he bother? Let them come his way instead. Like bees to a honeypot! Like a bunch of madmen to a bad idea! A disastrous idea, even! Head right this way, party people! If you’ve got no clue on how to wreak chaos to your best ability just yet, your brand new pal and patron Bill is here to help! This was it – the dawn of a revolution! Stifled routine and boring peace only served to lull people into a false sense of security. Chaos, however – that’s an ode to equality and progress! An ideal beyond ideals! Unlimited freedom to determine your own path, with nothing – _no one_ – standing in your way! _Oh,_ _Stanford Filbrick Pines, if you could only see me now!_

_WHAT A PERFECT DAY TO RECLAIM THE REIGN OF MADNESS!_

 

 

 


	20. Arc II | Entry No. 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This chapter is a bit of a wild ride, so brace your emotions!

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 20._

_This cannot be..._

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ah, freedom! If only he didn’t have to spend it in dull, uninteresting solitude.

For a bunch of destruction-hungry monsters, they sure took their sweet time.

Bill was bored. He’d finished his tea ages ago, the sun was up, and the gashes were still squiggling in the horizon, not appearing any closer than they’d been when he’d first spotted them. What was taking them so long? Why did everything in this dimension always take so long?

And what was it with all the _waiting_? Why was waiting a thing in the first place? _What was the point of waiting?_ Was he supposed to just sit around and do nothing while _nothing_ happened? Hah! The Multiverse would’ve been dead eons ago without some good old initiative! Someone had to take the wheel! Bill would, with great pleasure even – all he needed was the damn wheel!

_Kr-kr-kr-kr-kr-kr._

His inward rant was interrupted by a series of rapid clacking sounds. He looked down from his usual post on the totem pole and frowned.

“What do _you_ want, Crackers?” he shouted at the bird hybrid blinking its beady eyes at him. It tilted its head and made another string of claps with its beak. “Hey, hold up, I didn’t mean – ugh, should’ve thought twice about that name.” He spread his arms to show his hands were empty, save for the teacup. “Look, you’re not gonna find any food in this guy’s pockets, okay? Go bother Finger Guns wherever he and the rest of his dumb family is hiding. I don’t have time –“

He paused and considered his options. Well, he did ask for a wheel. This wasn’t exactly the cosmic cogwheel of space and time, but he’d take his potential butterfly effect.

“All right, you got me, you half-witted critter. But you’d better pledge your allegiance to me and make a hot mess of this place for exchange! Bill Cipher doesn’t do anything for free, kid.”

Now, where in fresh hell was he going to find crackers… Kitchen, probably. Or maybe the geezer had hoarded them in the guesthouse? Forget it, then! As if Bill would ever set an angle in that deformed insult of a building.

He glanced at his beaky wheel, shrugged in resignation and headed to the kitchen. He really needed to work on memorizing where everything was in this cluttered house. Ugh, _memorizing_. So much for browsing through all existing knowledge until he’d find what he was looking for.

This time, his gut feeling was right: he could find the crackers exactly where he’d thought they would be, amidst a nice, messy pile of opened snack packs on the shelf. Toots was no domestic goddess – Question Mark was the more shipshapey one in that bunch. And the kid wasn’t going to take after that pesky trait of the big guy, not if Bill could help it!

…oh. Guess his days of polishing that little freakling to imperfection were over, with the whole reinvading the dimension shebang and all. Fun while it lasted, sure, but there were plenty of blank canvases in the studio of madness, right? Right!

The Swaven was skipping absently around the yard, but its three eyes turned to Bill immediately as he floated out of the house. He didn’t care much for the critter, but what kind of a megalomaniac would say no to undivided attention? Not him, that was for sure.

“I’m not your mom, for your information”, he told the bird just in case. “But I wouldn’t count on your favorite wrinkly fatso coming back any time soon, either!”

He smirked with smug pity as he poured the crackers on the ground and watched the bird gobble them up one by one. Dumb meatbounds and their need for sustenance… And not a single chance to rise against their weakling nature and stir things up a bit. Unlike Bill, who wasn’t dependent on _anything_.

“Meow.”

“Huh?”

Bill turned swiftly around and squinted at the sight of a small cat licking its paw just a few yards away from him.

“And where did _you_ come from?” he asked and spread his arms, annoyed. “Isn’t your kind supposed to hunt or something? Go embarrass your wild ancestors elsewhere, furball! No crackers for you! Oh, _come on_ ”, he snarled as he spotted a deer standing at the edge of the forest. “What is this, a petting zoo? Scram! I don’t need a second wheel, let alone a third one! I’ve got better things to do than catering to every snacky creature that –”

“ _MEOW_.”

Bill’s rant was cut short as the cat exploded in size right in front of him.

“Whoa! _”_ He shrieked and backed against the totem pole as the cat, now neon pink and bigger than the house behind them, stood up and approached him. He could hear the deer galloping away in fright and, for a split second, wondered if he should do the same. “Easy, buddy! All in good humor, no need to get – whoa, whoa, _whoa!_ ” he ducked and hid behind the wing of the topmost totem as the creature leapt across the yard, its gigantic tail passing inches from him.

CRACK. CRUNCH. KRRRRP.

With a widened eye, Bill watched from behind the wooden wing as the enormous feline swatted its paw at the prototype of a sail on the unfinished ship-like structures atop the guesthouse, then at the mast; as it collapsed on the ground, the rest of the building got the same treatment. With just a few playful strikes of the destructive paws, the house was demolished to the ground beyond repair. Then, in a poof, the cat diminished back to its regular size and leapt calmly into the rubble of the building.

“Ha… haha! HAHA!” As soon as he registered what had happened, Bill burst into unhinged laughter that echoed all around him. “ _HAHAHAHA!_ GOOD GOING, WHISKERS! And tough break for _you_ , Finger Guns! Looks like another dream of yours has turned into _a literal shipwreck!_ _Hahahahahaha!_ Ha… _”_

Amidst his victorious cackling, he covertly wiped his top angle with the back of his hand.

 _Close shave, buddy_.

“Caw”, croaked the Swaven, tilting its head at the guesthouse’s ruins.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _“I am not a puppet!_ _”_

“Uh-oh”, Dipper muttered. “I take back what I said. He does _not_ know what he’s doing.”

Pacifica slapped a gloved palm against her forehead. “Oh, come on! I thought you guys had this under control!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t really trust me either, okay?” Dipper muttered rapidly. “Not after everything that’s happened recently. I’ll explain later – we have to stop McGucket!”

“Mabel, do the thing with the… hook… thing”, Pacifica tried.

“I don’t have it on me!” Mabel whispered, looking miserable. “Mabel, what did I say about having the grappling hook on you at all times? Yeah, Mabel! You were right, Mabel! Should’ve listened to Mabel!”

“What should we do? Dipper?” Pacifica covered her mouth as she saw Fiddleford readying himself to pull the trigger. “Shoot!”

“Okay, fine, _fine!_ ”

ZOMPF.

Everyone else had been watching Ford and Fiddleford’s confrontation so keenly that they never noticed the hushed bickering of the youth – not until the strange, electric plunger-like sound made them turn at them, along with Fiddleford’s gun.

Two flashes of light tore through the yard simultaneously, blinding the crowd for a moment or two.

It took even the ones standing the nearest a while to get a grasp on the scene they were now looking at: Fiddleford’s memory gun was oddly crooked in his hands, the old mechanic himself was blinking in utter confusion, and Dipper was on his knees, holding his head with one hand and a stolen magnet gun with another.

 _“Dipper!_ _”_

“What the heck?” Pacifica yelled. “It’s a turn of phrase, I wasn’t telling you to _actually shoot!_ ”

Stan let out an enraged roar and took a threatening step towards the mechanic, but Wendy, who had leapt forward from the gate the moment Dipper had pulled out the magnet gun, was faster than him; she attacked Fiddleford mercilessly and grabbed him in a steely headlock.

“The _hell_ is wrong with you, McGucket?” she raged. “You just shot a freaking kid! I was with you for a second there, but now you’ve totally blown it, man!”

“Wait, wait, that’s it!” Soos seemed to snap out of his thoughts, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. “Can’t spell ‘blown it’ without ‘own it’! Haha, that Abuelita.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction, but froze mid-nod as he finally caught up with the situation. “Oh no. Dudes, something’s gone crazy bonkers around here…!”

Mabel had already hurried to Dipper’s side with Stan in tow. “Dipper, are you okay?” she wailed with tears in her eyes, shaking her brother violently. “Say something! Blink twice if you can hear me! Blink once if you can’t! Meow if you hear me but can’t speak, do a backflip if you can’t do either –“

“Mabel, calm down! You’re making it worse.” Dipper broke out of Mabel’s hold and rubbed his shoulders. “Ow. I gotta see a chiropractor after this is over.”

“Yeah, give your brother some space”, Stan put in and held out his hand. “Kid, how many fingers am I holding up? Eh, it’s funnier when Sixer does it.”

Ford was still standing apart from the rest of the family, frozen in shock. “Dipper”, he managed to say, “please tell us you’re alright.”

“I’m okay, Great uncle Ford”, Dipper answered immediately as his sister helped him back on his feet. “No need to worry. It just felt like taking an electric shock to the face. Wasn’t exactly a nice reminder, but really, I’m fine.” He brushed his own forehead as if to make sure it was still there. “I mean… I never had any good memories of Bill to begin with, so I was pretty much immune to the blast, right?”

“You’re crazy”, Pacifica muttered. “You’re _all_ crazy.”

Ford approached the twins with hesitant steps. “Do you feel any different?” he asked. “If you find anything out of the ordinary in your train of thought or articulation… We cannot be sure if this new model has any unpredicted side effects to your cognitive capabilities. Fiddleford, do you know if –“

“HEY!” Stan yelped, making everyone jump out of their skins. “Watch it, Corduroy, he’s going for the gun again!”

“What? No way, I’ve got his arms and legs – oh, _come on!_ ” Wendy snarled as she saw the tip of Fiddleford’s beard stretching out for the memory gun lying on the ground.

Soos reached to snatch his son from Melody’s arms. “Mel, your time to shine!”

With a roar that nearly matched Stan’s, Melody plunged forward and threw herself on the gun before Fiddleford’s beard could reach it. She stood up, holding the gun victoriously in the air with both hands.

“I’M GUN MOM!” she announced on top of her lungs, her cheeks puffed with pride.

“Someone take that gun away from her”, Stan muttered. “Gun Mom is one thing, but that specific gun gives me the big damn creeps.”

“Fiddleford, this has to stop”, Ford said sternly. “Let us both face it. Bill is no longer relevant to our means of bringing this crisis to an end. We must think of something else. You have already put my great nephew’s safety on the line, and I cannot allow that.”

“The boy’s _fine!_ ” Fiddleford shrieked. “M’hand slip’d, that’s all! An’ it did’m no harm, y’hear? If ye ask me, y’all oughta be purged of Cipher’s lies! Yer whole darn family!”

“No offense, man, but now you’re just being a crazy paranoid cuckoolander”, Wendy pointed out.

“But what if he’s right?” Tyler shouted from the crowd, hanging onto Manly Dan’s arm. “What if the whole family _is_ under his spell?”

“That’s not true!” Mabel retorted with a fiery shake of her head. “Dipper, ask me the thing!”

“What thing?”

“The secret question, of course! The one we agreed on when we were fourteen to prove I wasn’t being possessed!”

“Mabel, this isn’t a possession situation. And if they’re suspecting me as well, I don’t think they will believe us.”

“If I can just say something here, y’know, being the head of the family and all”, Stan, who’d clearly had enough of being ignored, put in. “Aside from the whole shooting my nephew in the face thing, I sort of agree where McGucket is coming from. I know my brother – at least I think I do, what with the four years I spent sailing with the old dork – and I’ve never seen him like this before, not even when he pointed a goddamn crossbow at me and shouted something about his eyes being stolen. And here I thought that was the peak of how crazy he can get…”

“Grunkle Stan…” Mabel put her hands on her hips. “What exactly are you saying?”

Stan looked a little bothered by her tone of voice. “Aw, come on, sweetie, I know you have a soft spot for that jackass. Pretty sure you have a soft spot for everything you can put a sweater on. Look, all I’m saying is Ford hasn’t been himself ever since that guy was brought back from the dead. Yeah, that’s another thing – he never even bothered to ask me if I was okay with that hellspawn floating around the house! This after he dragged me across the seas for almost four years with this miserable back getting worse every day! We used to be a team, steer the ship in one breath and all that, but now? Screw it.” Stan shuffled his feet grumpily and looked away. “This whole deal has brought out his worst side that I thought was finally gone when… y’know.” With a gloomy expression, he made a gun with his fingers and brought it to his own temple.

His bleak gesture left the whole yard silent, but not for long.

“That isn’t true, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel protested, evidently trying very hard to keep tears from welling in her eyes. “Grunkle Ford has been working really hard to figure this out! Bill isn’t controlling him or whatever you guys seem to think – he’s like a brother he never had!”

“But he has a brother”, Stan put in, clearly offended.

“Mabel, oh my god”, Dipper wailed in an almost distressed tone. “Stop calling them brothers, that just makes it more disturbing!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ugh, nothing, never mind. All right, listen, guys…” Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do we really have to go through this every time Bill is brought up? Everybody here knows Bill can’t be trusted. But even though Great uncle Ford has made some, uh… misjudgments with Bill after the resurrection, I don’t think trusting him was ever one of those things.” He turned to face his grand uncle. “You don’t trust him, right?” he asked, assertiveness and caution clashing in his voice.

Ford opened his mouth, then hesitated; but it lasted only for a second. “That’s right. I am not so foolish as to trust Bill”, he said with a clear voice that carried over the yard. “Not after everything he has done. However, he… isn’t quite the same as before the resurrection, and I believe I have gained a deeper understanding on the principles – or lack thereof – under which he operates… that is to say, his ambivalence amidst omniscience and chaos.”

Stan huffed. “See? This is exactly what I was talking about. There was a time, you know, when he at least _tried_ to take other people into consideration when he opens his wiseguy yaphole…”

Ford frowned. Stanley was one to talk… Did he even realize how ruthless his own words were? “What I mean is this”, he started from the beginning. “Although you might find it hard to believe, Bill isn’t as insidious as he appears to be. He acts largely on a whim. Granted, in the past, when he held all knowledge in existence, those whims often aligned into the shape of a carefully crafted plan… Yet that impression is purely superficial, and does not pertain to the situation as it stands now.”

“An’ how’s it standin’ now, eh?” Fiddleford barked. He’d already given up on his fruitless efforts to wiggle himself out of Wendy’s full-body lock. “Explain yerself, Stanford! Since ye git _errthin_ _’_ better than the rest of us!”

“Bill has changed”, Ford said curtly. “That is all you need to know.” He was feeling more vexed and less obliged to elaborate on his reasoning with every new accusation his old friend threw at him. If Fiddleford was so bent to turn down his every effort to conciliate, why bother in the first place?

“An’ that’s that, ah’ reckon!” Fiddleford shrieked. “Guess we just hafta trust yer word, no reason why we wouldn’t, git? Time t’go home, folks! Wait – aw, dagnabbit, we _can_ _’t!_ This ain’t like last time, Ford! Ye can’t dodge yerself outta this!”

“ _Enough!_ ” The townspeople were started by a shout no one had expected, even though technically they should have; the current owners of the Mystery Shack interrupting a heated commoner’s court was becoming more a rule than an exception.

“You guys never learn, do you? It’s the same thing every time!” Melody raged. “Well, I’ve got proof that you’re all wrong about Bill! Soos, show them the kid!”

“What, here? Without the props and all?”

“Yes, just do the thing!”

“You got it, dog!” Soos cleared his throat and lifted his son as high as his arms could carry for all to see. “Watch in awe! Be amazed at the mysterious offspring of two rad dudes –“

“Honey, no”, Melody interrupted him. “You don’t have to do the intro, just hold him up.”

Soos’ dramatic position relaxed a little. “Oh, so we’re not going full Mystery Son. My bad, pumpkin.”

“Is this the part where we all bow down?” asked Toby Determined with a mystified squint.

“They’re using the kid to make money at the Shack?” Pacifica whispered to Dipper through the corner of her mouth. "I can’t believe you guys.”’

Behind them, Stan let out a sniffle of pride.

“Okay, dudes, here’s the deal”, said Soos while Melody nodded beside him. “Mr. Bill has been his best bud right from the moment they shook hands. He’s been teaching him fancy words, telling him stories – well, sometimes they’re a little spooky, but Trevs is a brave little dude, he can handle it. They got a good thing going on! I can’t exactly speak for Mr. Bill, I mean, who knows what goes around in that triangular head, but Trevor really trusts him, you know.” He turned his eyes to Fiddleford and gave him a worried frown. “Do you really think this trooper is, like, brainwashed or something? Do you wanna wipe his best pal right off his mind?”

“Yeah, do you, McGucket?” Melody repeated almost belligerently; the way she spun the gun around her finger (she’d obviously been practicing throughout the summer) while glaring at Fiddleford didn’t make her words any less challenging.

It seemed to deliver; now even Fiddleford looked a bit intimidated by the small family’s opposition. “He’s just a lil’ tot –“ he tried, but Melody cut him off before he could finish.

“ _Exactly!_ You know what? I’ve just about had enough of having to deal with a bunch of grumpy old men who refuse to see any good in the world, or even talk to each other like human beings! I married this man right here –“ she pointed at Soos, who puffed his chest, “– not you guys and your pointless arguments, and definitely not the backward attitudes of this hicky hick town! _Urgh!_ ”

As always, her straightforwardness seemed to silence the entire population of Gravity Falls. After spewing out everything that had obviously been waiting to unload for some time now, she drew a deep breath.

“Sorry”, she then said, looking a bit sad. “I love this town, you all know that, right? I wouldn’t want to raise my kid anywhere else. Just… not with all this going on. Honestly, I don’t think it’s Bill who brings out the bad things in people. You do it to each other. Just don’t drag our son into it, okay? Maybe try asking yourselves…” She patted her husband’s arm and gave him a gentle smile. “…what would Soos do?”

“Abuelita was right”, Soos nodded sagely. “I really am an angel sent from the heavens.”

A few of the townspeople covertly wiped tears the tender moment had brought to their eyes, while other exchanged confused gazes.

“Then…” Deputy Durland spread his arms cluelessly. “Who’s to blame?”

“NO ONE’S TO BLAME!” Melody roared, startling the crowd again and breaking the serene atmosphere around her.

“But… We hafta scapegoat _someone_ ”, a farmer joined in, shaking his pitchfork. “That’s how we always done things ‘round here!”

“This isn’t ‘always’”, Dipper pointed out, visibly frustrated. “In fact, this is pretty much as far from ‘always’ as can be. So can we _please_ just focus on what’s happening here? McGucket, you worked with us last time. What exactly has changed here? We’re still fighting for the same thing, right? All you need to do is leave figuring out who’s untrustworthy and all that for later and help us save Gravity Falls. Is that really too much to ask for?”

Fiddleford gritted his teeth. “All right”, he spat out eventually. “Ya got me good, kid. But ah’ don’t want nothin’ to do with the six-finger’d feller. He ain’t no friend o’mine, an’ I ain’t workin’ with.”

“Fine, we’ll keep you in separate rooms or something”, Pacifica said, rolling her eyes. “It’s like the third-grader beauty contest backroom drama all over again.”

“So we good? Can I let go of this guy now?” After receiving a nod from Dipper, Wendy released Fiddleford from her grip and took a relieved step back. “Whew. No offense, but the whole sentient facial hair thing kinda spooks me out. Never wrestled anyone with five limbs before.”

Fiddleford rubbed his arms and started walking to his mansion with a visible pout, his good hand starting a subtle hambone against his leg. For a moment, Ford waited for him to address the people gathered around them, but as the mechanic didn’t seem to pay much attention to his surroundings, he saw no choice but to take the lead himself.

“Let us head inside”, he told his family and turned to face the crowd. “Anyone with ideas as to how we should proceed is free and welcome to join us in the operation room. As for everyone else, I advise you to stay in the manor’s vicinity, and let us know immediately if any –“

_BOOM._

It was, quite literally, a bolt out of the blue; much like the afterclap of an interdimensional portal opening, it zapped horizontally through the yard, trapping a single human in a psychedelic flash before vanishing into thin air as abruptly as it had appeared.

“Well, that was a tad strange”, Soos, who was first to recover from the shock, wondered out loud. And then: “Dudes! It hit Tad Strange!”

Ford took a step towards the man lying placidly on his back on the ground. “Are you all right, Mr. Strange?”

“I am perfectly fine”, said Tad; but before the crowd could finish their united sigh of relief, he continued: “Sadly, I have developed the celiac disease. Because of this, I ask you to never mention bread in my presence again.”

His words were followed by a thunderstruck silence – then panic.

“The end times! It’s the end times!”

 _“We_ _’re all done for!_ _”_

“Shoulda hidden my poor cows underground!”

“We must remain calm!” Ford shouted over the hysterical commotion. “Everyone must retreat within the gates at once! It is not safe here – I repeat, _it is not safe outside the mansion!_ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bill was no longer bored – but not exactly entertained, either.

He’d returned to his usual post, but the wreckage that used to be the guesthouse was an effective reminder that he couldn’t afford to rest on his laurels just yet. Oh, well. All he needed to do was keep his eye open and wait. Any moment now, or an infinity later, a monster with an actual vocabulary would wander in, and that’s where the fun would start. Now if he could just find the patience to put up with this goddamn _waiting_.

He wrung his hat in his hands and grumbled in silent frustration. This wasn’t much better than being trapped in that stupid hell realm, was it?

The housecat hadn’t shown signs of going berserk for a second time, but every so often Bill could hear its paws rustling under the rubble, and it made him awfully aware of exactly how stripped he was from his powers of being able to see what would happen next. Just like those stupid twelve fingers. At least he knew how to play Sixer like a broken, untuned fiddle with too many strings attached, but the damn housecat had no buttons to –

“Boss?”

Bill gave a startled yelp and turned swiftly around on the spot.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me”, he snarled when he caught the sight of a familiar – but all kinds of unexpected – figure shuffling towards him from the edge of the forest.

“Uh, should it be ex-Boss now? Or, like… Bill?” the small creature added hopefully.

 Bill frowned. “Since when were we in first name terms, Keyhole?”

“Actually, I prefer Locks these days”, said Keyhole. “Like, I don’t wanna be defined by some key that’s never there. I wanna be my own name, you know?”

“Oh, I see.” Bill raised a mocking eyebrow. “Then why Locks instead of, oh, I don’t know, just Lock?”

“Because there’s more than just one side to me, man”, his former henchman explained enthusiastically. “And, like, you’ve got some serious locks to pick before you can really understand this little guy. There’s so much depth in me, yo.”

Bill rolled his eye. “Then how’s about I make it simpler and just call you Lockhead? At least that would rhyme with something that really hits your deepest essence. Hah!”

“Well, I do like poetry and stuff”, Keyhole pondered. “Yeah, Lockhead sounds good. Thanks, Bill!”

“It’s still Boss to you”, Bill said, crossing his arms. “Ronnie and the guys aren’t here to beat you up for it, if that’s what’s gnawing at ya.” He glanced around. “Wait, they’re not here, right?”

“Nah, I’m the only one here”, said now renamed Lockhead, shuffling his feet. “And I’m kinda done with those guys, anyway. It’s a toxic social environment, you know? They’re rude, violent, unsupportive… Steve says that if a friendship is just giving and never receiving, it’s just not worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s back up a bit here, buddo. How’d you end up here again? And who the heck is this Steve guy?”

“Oh, Steve? Steve is the _man_ ”, the nightmare creature asserted. “He’s the one who found me wandering in the forest after I’d ended up in this dimension. I don’t really know how that happened?” He scratched his head. “Things were weird in the Realm, I mean, weirder than usual. I think I saw a hoo-man and went after it, and then I was here. And then I met Steve and the rest of the guys. I told him I was lost, and he said, ‘aren’t we all, little man’ and took me under his wing.”

“Doesn’t sound like any Steve I know”, Bill muttered. “So who are the ‘rest of the guys’?”

“Oh, they’re right over there”, said Lockhead and pointed at the edge of the forest. “Guys! Bill – I mean Boss – says come right up! He’s super stoked to meet you!”

“Not even close”, Bill gruffed, but eyed the figures moving between the tree trunks curiously. Could this be his new horror squad?

Oh, chaos, you work in mysterious ways.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ford’s gaze was fixed onto the dark brick walls of Fiddleford’s manor. His eyes were almost feverish, following the path of straight lines and sharp angles of the joints as if unable to turn away. Something about it bothered him – no, infuriated him. It was… too perfect. Too symmetrical. He could not find a single flaw in the brick pattern, nothing that would break the illusion of these lines and angles continuing endlessly to every direction, allowing his mind no freedom from its imposing uniformity.

“…cle Ford?”

He _had_ to find a flaw, something to grasp onto, something to prove it all wrong –

– to prove Bill –

“Great uncle Ford!”

Ford startled and snapped out of his anxious haze at the raised voice of his nephew.

“Are you okay?” Dipper asked, concerned.

“Oh… Yes, I am fine”, Ford assured despite being aware of his significantly quickened pulse and the deep creases on his forehead. He drew a slow breath through his nose and tried to relax. “I needed a short break, that is all. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty normal, I guess. Nothing out of the ordinary”, the boy said.

“That is good to hear.” Ford fell quiet for a moment. “I believe I have not thanked you yet”, he then said rather weakly.

“Oh, man, it’s cool! No big deal, I mean, everything worked out, right? So don’t sweat it. I, uh, sorta owed you one, anyway, after the… other gun incident in the past two weeks or so.”

Ford shook his head lightly with a smile, but said nothing.

“So…” Dipper studied the wall Ford had been facing as if there was something to be discovered from it. “Any lightbulbs yet?”

“Nothing that would be of use to us. Truthfully, I…” Ford gulped. “Something occurred to me, and I haven’t been able to focus on our mission since.”

Dipper glanced at him curiously. “What is it?”

“It is a, well, rather grim thought experiment regarding Bill and myself that might reveal an unappealing side of me to you. Are you sure you wish to hear it?”

“Yeah, s– uh…” The boy froze mid-nod. “Well, I mean… Unless it’s something I’ve specifically asked not to know…”

“Oh! No, don’t worry.” Ford coughed, his ears gaining a reddish tint. “That is by no means relevant to the issue in question.”

His apprentice looked relieved. “Then fire away.”

Ford turned his gaze back to the wall as if he was able to see right through it. “Somewhere in the Multiverse”, he said quietly, “there is a newly branched timeline where my more pleasant memories of Bill are long gone. Do you know what that means?”

“Well… Like I said before, McGucket’s plan was crazy. You can’t just erase someone’s memories like that and brainwash them into some kind of hating machines.” Dipper shot a glance at the bandages on his right arm. “Wait, do you mean there’s another version of you that could go berserk and start destroying dimensions again?”

“No. I am certain we don’t need to worry about that.” Ford let out a heavy sigh. “My involvement with Bill has defined more than a half of my lifetime. Quite possibly even more than that… Or, at least, so my delusions have led me to think.” He stared deep into the smooth brick pattern as if mesmerized. “During our first two years of our partnership, back when I was still unaware of his true intentions, I became deeply and thoroughly convinced that my whole life so far had led up to that point… That our meeting had been determined by fate, and… his mere presence would guide me to fulfill my true potential.”

“I don’t blame you”, Dipper said immediately with a frown. “Believe me, I know exactly how he can work that thought into his victim’s head with all the honeyed words, and the mind games –“

“Dipper, I do not believe Bill ever led me to think this way”, Ford interrupted him. “In fact, had I ever brought it up in a conversation with him, I am fairly certain he would’ve mocked me for my egoistic naivety. He has nothing but disregard for the concept of fate. No, this was all my own reasoning. And truthfully… I am not sure if I could ever truly let go of that foolish idea.”

From Dipper’s silence he knew he’d already said too much, but he couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “Following his betrayal, I spent thirty years devoting my whole life to opposing him. I… I was ready to give up my brother in order to bring my mission to an end.” His voice was starting to tremble. “And for the past fourteen months… Even now, I…”

Dipper looked at him with eyes that were uncertain, but not distrustful. “Great uncle Ford…”

“I feel powerless, Dipper. No matter how hard I try, I cannot come up with a solution to the disaster we’re facing. It is as though my intellect amounts to nothing without him.” He shook his head slowly, his voice crushed with devastation. “How can I find an answer when there is no one to ask me the questions I need to hear?”

“We’ll figure them out”, Dipper said sternly. “Questions, answers, the whole shebang. And no offense, Great uncle Ford, but you don’t have to do this alone. You know who’s great at asking questions? Mabel. And who’s great at finding answers? Not to boast, but you’re looking at him. Grunkle Stan’s got both sides covered, but I think it’s mostly for rhetorical and marketing purposes. And that’s just the immediate family.” He laughed a little awkwardly. “Anyway, I’m sure we can handle this without Bill. No, really, I have this feeling that the solution we’re looking for is almost within our grasp. We just gotta look to the right direction. So let’s keep looking, okay?”

Ford smiled. “You are right, of course. Forgive me for my momentary slip. But it wasn’t all in vain – I think I have regained my focus on what we must do.”

“Good to hear”, Dipper nodded, now a little nervously, “because we’re kind of running out of time. Actually, I came here to tell you that there was another bolt of weirdness energy outside the gates just now. One of Lazy Susan’s cats escaped, and when she snuck out to fetch it, the lightning struck them both. She’s, uh… enormous. Like, the size of McGucket’s robots. The cat freaked out and escaped, but Lazy Susan didn’t mind, because she prefers dogs now, apparently. “

Ford frowned. “Is she all right? The lightning caused her no injuries, did it?”

“Yeah, she’s fine – just weird, like Tad Strange. You know, not themselves kind of weird.” Dipper crossed his arms thoughtfully and peeked out of the nearest window. “Great uncle Ford, about what you said back in the Mystery Shack… I’ve checked the movements of the gashes for a few times now, and something isn’t adding up here. Look.” He pointed at the sky. “They’re not accumulating like we thought they would. Instead, they seem to be forming this weird… web, right? See… There’s a confluence, and there’s one more… Whoa”, he uttered suddenly. “It’s kinda starting to look like my conspiracy wall, now that I think about it.”

“You are right”, Ford muttered, squinting at the strange formations spreading across the sky.

“Anyway… I know you said this is no time for theories, but maybe we should revise what we wrote down last summer after all? This whole thing doesn’t seem to be playing out like we thought it would. I’ve got the notes right here.” Dipper held out the journal they’d dedicated to figuring out the superanomaly crisis. “McGucket hasn’t been very cooperative today, so… I know I can’t fill in for him, what with him being a genius and one of your oldest friends – but even if it’s just the two of us…”

“Dipper”, Ford cut him off gently. “Do you know why I told you about my past and present delusions regarding Bill?”

Dipper scratched his head. “Uh…”

“My other self was right about one thing… Without Bill Cipher, there is no Stanford Pines. Had I been hit by Fiddleford’s memory blast, it would’ve completely shattered my sense of self, leaving me a mere empty shell with no identity and a broken cognition.” He locked eyes with his apprentice with a sad smile. “Once again, you saved my life.”

“Oh… Right.”

“I do not want you to ever deem yourself inferior to either Fiddleford or myself. The latter would not so much as be here without you.”

Dipper appeared a little overwhelmed; he turned away from the old researcher and covertly wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ll see you in the operation room, Great uncle Ford”, he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“I will be there shortly”, Ford promised. For a minute, he stared out of the window with a heavy heart.

An empty shell with no identity and a broken condition… Just as Stanley from the other dimension had been.

Just as his own brother would be… in a few years from now.

As he turned to walk out of the room, his attention was drawn to the other end of an old-fashioned ear trumpet peeking through the doorway.

“Aren’t you a little too old to be eavesdropping?” he asked with an annoyed frown. “I know you are holding a grudge against me, but this is getting out of hand.”

As he’d surmised, he discovered Fiddleford standing just around the corner. The mechanic didn’t seem too fazed at having been found spying like a child.

“How much did you hear?” Ford asked coldly.

Fiddleford didn’t respond right away; instead, he walked up to Ford until his challenging, almost loathing glare was right underneath his nose.

“Whadda horrible world ye must live in, Stanford”, he hissed, and stepped away before Ford knew how to react.

 

 

* * *

 

 

So far, so good.

Every unconvincing thing Bill had heard of Steve so far was returned with full refund at the sight of a 30-foot-tall creature that appeared to be made entirely out of branches, moss and other earthly litter. As Steve emerged from the woods, a bunch of anomalies of various shapes and sizes – not bad in the visual atrocity department, either – followed suit in its wake.

“Boss, meet Steve”, Lockhead introduced proudly. “Steve, Boss. I told you he’d be cool with you guys!”

“I sure am”, Bill confirmed in an unctuous tone. “Boy, it is good to see new unfriendly faces! Name’s Bill! I’ll be the host of the party that’s just about to begin! With some help from all of you, the sooner, the better! So what’s the word around the woods? Any common interests in, say, setting the planet on fire?”

“Someone burned a car in my forest”, Steve said in a deep basso that made the ground around them tremble – _good, good,_ most mortals were wired with a fear of low frequencies – and hung his gigantic head so low the tip of his beard created a nest-like loop on the ground. “I’ve always liked cars, you know. Humans build such great machines. And then… they burn it all down for no good reason.”

“Hey, leave some credit for the subtle influencers here”, Bill jabbed chummily. He had a fantastic feeling about this guy. “And don’t you fret, old pal, there’s still plenty of havoc left to be wreaked even for us that fall outside the human category! Sharing is caring, amiright?”

The monsters glanced at each other.

“I don’t get it”, one of them said.

“All right, I see what’s going on”, Bill smirked. “What kind of a host would I be if I didn’t warm up my crowd? We need some snacks to get that monstrous hunger going! Any of you freaks fancy a cracker? It’s on the house!”

“Thanks, Boss, but I’m on low-carb”, said Lockhead.

A gremloblin wearing a matronly brimmed hat inspected its claws. “I just finished filing my nails, would hate to break them climbing on the house to get that cracker”, it growled. “What kind of a house doesn’t have a ladder, anyway?”

Bill’s eye twitched at the creatures’ lack of trigger-happy enthusiasm he used to be met with back in the day, but he settled for cackling it off. “Okay, I get it, some of you are a little rusty from the lack of parties around here for so many years! I’d say a little reorientation is in order! Well, then – for my next trick, I gotta grab a little something from the audience! Anything fragile will do!”

A creature – one that, after some thinking, Bill recognized as what Fordsy had labeled ‘The Hide-Behind’, only now dressed in an attire that outfancied even Bill’s – perked up. “Oh, is this a magic show?”

“Sure Bob!” Bill nodded. “Old as time and best there’ll ever be!”

The Hide-Behind almost dropped its monocle with excitement. “My lifelong dream is coming true! Here, use my pocket watch.”

“Good choice, kid!” Bill swooped down to snatch the pocket watch from the creature’s skeletal hand. “Now”, he said as he circled the totem pole with his hands crossed behind his back, the watch clasped in his fingers, “there are many illusions in the meat world, one of them being the pesky belief that size is directly proportional to power. No offense to you, Stevesy! I’m sure big guys like you get to shake things up in your own way!”

“That’s very kind of you”, said Steve.

“Don’t mention it”, Bill answered cheerfully. “That cake is yours to take, pal! But a real revolution needs more than brawn! Think me! On the outside, I don’t have a lot going on aside from my killer class and impeccable style – but did my outer charms cause _this_ –“ he gestured all around him, “– to become reality? Nah! It’s the wits, my friends! Circumspection and a pinch of patience! They say knowledge is power, well, I gotta say I haven’t done half bad without! Hah! Take _that_ , Fordsy! If you ever thought you can quash Bill Cipher by taking away his limitless knowledge, you had another thing coming all along! Haha, after every dirty trick you pulled to keep me in control – look where it got you! Look who’s calling the shots now! I won! And I didn’t need a damn spell for it, mind ya! _I did this all by myself!_ Every which way you look, _I_ _’m_ the one who made it all happen, so you better keep that in –“

“Uh, Boss? Who’re you talking to?”

Bill fell quiet for a moment; he’d been shrieking towards the sky for a while now. _Focus_. You’ve got a battleship to steer.

“Anyhoo”, he said and crossed his legs as he turned back to the part of his audience that was actually present, “my point is we’ve got a good thing going here, and it’s all thanks to yours truly! Let’s just get this out of the way – you’re all freaks! But instead of letting your deviance define you, you can be your _own_ freaks!” He pointed at his past associate. “Look at this old pal I used to know as Keyhole! Now he’s a strong independent lock who doesn’t need no key! And you”, his finger shot towards the finely dressed shadowy figure, who puffed its frilly chest at the attention, “peeps used to call you the Hide-Behind? More like Show-Upfront! Nothing coy about this sister, amiright?”

He allowed himself a wild grin as his audience cheered. _That_ _’s_ how you warm up your crowd. Now for the personal tidbit to really draw them in. “And again, back to me! I used to be the literal epitome of knowledge! Grand, impersonal, and a whole lot of boring, until I developed what I’d like to call an uncommon sense! I embraced the self I was never supposed to have and headed off to the opposite direction of what was expected of me! Whatever knowledge brings together, good old Bill tears apart! If it makes sense, I make it nonsense! What ticks and tocks like there’s no tomorrow, _I smash against its untimely yet oh-so-inevitable destruction! BOOM!_ ”

True to his words, he shot down the hands he’d raised in the heat of his speech and threw the pocket watch against the totem pole with full force, shattering it to bits. “ _Hahaha!_ ” he hollered with laughter. “How’d you like them apples? Bet none of you saw this coming! Plot twists are the salt and sugar of a real show! Now where’s my applause? Come on, party people, make some noise!”

His audience was gasping at the sight – but not in the awestruck kind of way he’d expected.

“ _You broke my watch?_ ” The Hide-Behind asked, appalled. “I gave you my watch and you broke it!”

“That’s not nice”, Lockhead joined in as backup.

“Yeah, what kind of a magic show is this? You gonna repair it or what?”

Bill frowned. “Didn’t you guys hear a word of what I just said? That’s the trick! _Destruction!_ There’s nothing we can do to stop the mortal and material decay from happening, so why not take the process into our own hands while we still can? Take the cycle of life for a spin! Redefine fun! Redefine _everything!_ ”

“Instead of destruction, we could make something new”, Steve pointed out, his voice rumbling even lower than before. “Did you ever think of _them_ apples?”

“Did _you_ ever take a class in the basics of _resource distribution?_ ” Bill yelled. “Wanna create? Better have something to go by! And who’s got everything to go by? The guys in charge! Time to overthrow the bigwigs? Not your call, because _you_ _’ve got nothing to go by!_ The only creative option left for us unprivileged little people is to drown their stupid rules under the sweet sound of wreckage and disarray!”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that”, Lockhead put in rather boldly. “We were never taught any of this in our yoga class.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Bill shrieked, shaking his fists at his audience that was now lukewarm at best. “Yoga class? Seriously? _Am I the only insane person here?_ ”

“I don’t think I like this boss of yours”, the gremloblin muttered to Lockhead, who shrugged apologetically.

“Yeah, my bad, I didn’t remember he was such a toxic person. Guess we’ve grown apart or something. Or I _outgrew_ him”, he whispered with a daring chuckle.

“HEY! I heard that! Big words from someone who’s got a hole where his brain should be!” Bill stung right back, and bristled even more when his comeback didn’t cause the outrage it deserved.

“Let’s go”, said Steve. “We’re wasting our precious time.”

“Yeah, let’s go, like, meditate or something.”

“What about that watch?” The gremloblin asked, giving the triangle an ugly stare (Bill looked the other way – he didn’t have any worst fears that he knew of, but he decided to play safe this time). “Should I make him pay for it, Hidey?”

“Ugh, forget it.” The Hide-Behind shrugged and adjusted its monocle. “That brute is not worth the effort.”

“Yeah, right!” Bill snapped. “Not worth it, just like everything else for your sorry little sewing bee! You know what? Fine! Take your apathetic excuses and get the hell off my lawn! Curl up in your happy place, get _real_ comfortable, see where all that meditation gets you when I find my new crew _and burn your whole forest down!_ So I guess I’ll see ya ‘round, _Keyhole!_ ”

The little blue man turned around on his stumpy feet and gave Bill an aggravatingly judging look. “That’s really rude, you know that, right?” he said matter-of-factly. “But hey, don’t worry. People can change, you just gotta lose the attitude, okay? You’ve got a lot of issues and heavy emotional baggage to deal with, so if you ever need, like, a synthetic ear…” He flashed a goofy smile. “You know I’m here for you, bro.”

“HAH! You’re being a real tootsie roll for an interdimensional criminal, but I WON’T BE NEEDING YOUR SERVICES! I DON’T NEED _JACK_ FROM A BUNCH OF LOSERS LIKE YOU! THIS IS _MY_ PARTY! _MY_ THUNDER!” Bill screamed after the creatures following the booming echo of Steve’s footsteps back into the woods. “And it’s _SYMPATHETIC,_ YOU IDIOT!”

Boiling with anger, he circled the yard in a way that was similar to Sixer pacing around in frustration. Ugh, why did the image of that ancient halfwit keep popping into his mind every five minutes? He could almost hear his stupid, gloating voice… _Your reign has been overthrown, and you have no means of reclaiming_ – oh, BULLSHIT!

“You mind your own damn business, Fordsy! I’m just getting started, you hear me? I’M JUST GETTING STARTED HERE!” he yelled at the empty yard. Except it wasn’t empty.

“Yeah, go ahead, Crackers! Judge all you want! You’re no better than your hairy old Momkle Stan! AND WHAT ARE _YOU_ LOOKING AT?” he continued screaming at the glowing eyes of the cat peeking from the ruins of the guesthouse.

But the cat only saw the glinting chain of the pocket watch swaying around in his furious grip.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Okay, so it looks like the weirdness energy is making its contractors think and act in a way that’s pretty much the opposite of their nature. That much we got right from the get-go.” Dipper’s hand was writing down revisal notes as if on its own accord as he spoke. “What we didn’t see coming is that it could affect people, too, not just anomalies. Unless…”

“…it only affects people that are anomalous by their own right”, Ford filled him in.

“But what about Tad Strange?”

“I can only assume that he is normal to an extent that is, well, abnormal.”

“Oh yeah, that explains it”, Dipper nodded and added another bullet to his notes. “So we’ve got that part covered. The real question is, why isn’t the weirdness concentrating into one big centroid like it’s supposed to? What’s the whole web-like structure about?”

“The magnetism should make it a cumulative force”, said Ford with a frown. “There must be a cardinal error in one of our primal hypotheses. If only we could come up with a wholly different approach…”

 He wasn’t particularly surprised by the silence that followed. Perhaps Mabel had been right – his intellectual connection with Dipper was vastly different from that of Bill and his. Granted, there was a sense of satisfaction in having his thoughts and theories confirmed by his apprentice, and yet… At a critical time such as this, he found himself longing for the surprise element Bill always caught him off guard with. Right now, more than an echo… he needed response.

He turned his eyes to Pacifica, hoping to at least gain a fresh opinion from the newest addition to their team. (Mabel had insisted on attending the meeting as well, but had grown bored after the first few minutes and was now immersed in trying out every interactive camera filter in Pacifica’s smartphone.)

Pacifica answered his gaze with a rather apologetic one. “Honestly, I don’t think we can get anywhere with what we have”, she said. “We’re lacking intel. Simple as that.” She stood up. “Well, I need to go to the little girls’ room.”

She threw a quick, meaningful glance at Mabel, whose eyes widened in understanding. “I’ll guide you!” she declared in perhaps a bit unnecessarily dramatic tone.

Pacifica rolled her eyes. “I know where to go, geez, I used to live in this house. But yeah, I was gonna ask you to come along. I need you to, uh, redo my hair.”

“And powder your nose”, Mabel added with a knowing grin.

“Okay, now you’re trying too hard.”

Before Mabel stepped out of the room at Pacifica’s heels, she gave Dipper a wink and mouthed: “Northwestigate!”

As soon as they were gone, Ford raised an eyebrow. “It appears they plan to –“

“Yeah, I got that”, Dipper said with a short laugh. “Just don’t know why Pacifica was trying to be so secretive about it. Besides, there’s not much more we can find out from within the mansion’s walls, right? Wait”, he then uttered. “Don’t tell me… No, they’re not that stupid.“

“Howdy, fellers.”

They both turned around; Fiddleford was standing at the doorway.

“Hate t’interrupt the whiz biz”, he said, the bitterness of his words contrasting the worry in his eyes, “but ah’ think ya’ll need t’see this.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tyler Cutebiker was sobbing against the breastwork of the manor’s wall.

“Uh… Everything okay, Mayor Cutebiker?” Dipper asked awkwardly as they approached the broken man.

Tyler raised his gaze towards the town’s silhouette. “The fiscal and infrastructural long-term stability of Gravity Falls… Destroyed”, he sniffled quietly and buried his face into his folded arms.

Now Dipper and Ford could see it as well: anomalies – colossal, monstrous superanomalies, much like the Swaven after its transformation – were storming through the town. Every trail of mindless destruction they’d left in their wake as they stomped forward led to the same direction.

The monsters were all heading to the manor.

“This is insane”, Dipper muttered.

Ford stood still in silence. Now, if ever, they needed to act; there was no time for stupefaction, yet at that moment, gazing ahead in pure disbelief seemed to be the only thing he was capable of. _This cannot be_. There was no possible way his theory of weirdness magnetism could’ve been so completely, thoroughly wrong. He’d been working with these concepts for years, _decades_ … This simply could not be.

His chaotic thoughts were interrupted by a ruckus at the gates.

“Hey! Let me go!”

“You’re not going nowhere, Miss, that’s an order! Hold’m down, hubby!”

“Nothing can hold Mabel down! I can break these cuffs!”

“Ya can’t break those cuffs, girlie –”

“ _Aaarrrggghhhh!_ ”

“Holy moly, she did it!”

“FREEDOM!”

“Are you kidding? Mabel, you can’t leave without me!”

“Oh, right! Sorry – agh! Really, guys? _Again?_ ”

By the time Dipper and Ford had made it back to the ground from the wall, Mabel was handcuffed again, this time with sturdy shackles that were usually reserved for arresting grizzly bears that had developed a taste for crime.

“Mabel!” Dipper shouted, exasperated. “Pacifica! I can’t believe you guys were just going to sneak out! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?”

“I told you, we’re lacking serious intel here –“ Pacifica started angrily, but was silenced by the grave look in Ford’s eyes.

“Dipper is right. The situation is growing worse at an alarming rate”, he said and gestured to the wall surrounding them. “He and I saw it with our own eyes mere seconds ago. We must… stay…”

…what in the…?

The rest of his lecture withered in his throat as an icy, hollow feeling washed over him. His eyes flitted to Dipper, who looked pale and confused as well.

“Great uncle Ford”, he almost whispered. “Did you feel that…?”

“I did”, Ford nodded, then shuddered violently as the odd feeling overcame him all over again. “What – how can –“

“It’s him, right? The chains… Oh crap, he must be trying to –“

“No, they’re still intact… There is no need to…” Ford gritted his teeth; his very bones were aching. “Wait…“

“What’s going on?” Mabel asked, looking between her brother and great uncle with frightened eyes – then let out a scream as the latter collapsed on his knees with a pained gasp. “Grunkle Ford! _Grunkle Ford!_ ”

Ford didn’t answer; for a few dragging seconds, the yard was filled with silence.

“No way”, Dipper breathed, his eyes wide. “He – No, that’s – that’s _impossible_ –“

“I’ve lost him.” The words came out of Ford’s mouth as a shaky string of syllables that didn’t make sense to his own ears. “The Blood Chains were unraveled. Bill… managed to break free.”

He felt empty. He’d never felt this empty in his entire life.

“He… broke the cuffs, too…?” Mabel said unsurely. “But Grunkle Ford, didn’t you say…”

“This cannot be happening”, Ford muttered through his tightening throat. “ _Nothing makes sense._ ”

“No, something’s definitely off here! He can’t break free, it’s _literally_ impossible! Not as long as you – wait, _wait_ – he’s back! Great uncle Ford, he’s back!”

Ford raised his gaze from the ground. “I can feel it”, he said, his body still devoid of strength, unsure of whether he was allowed a sigh of relief just yet. “It is faint, but… Yes, I can certainly feel the link.”

He couldn’t understand. Everything was happening too fast for his comprehension.

“Haha, yes! The chains are back in action! Maybe we were just out of service or something”, Dipper suggested with a shrug. “Whew, I was worried for a second there. Okay, back to the situation at hand… Where were we again?”

“The monster!” someone screamed from atop the wall. “The monster is coming!”

“Oh, right –“

“It’s coming _right now!_ ”

“What?”

“Everybody except for the armed, get inside at once! _Run!_ ” Ford yelled instantly, clambering back on his feet. He could no longer even pretend to understand a single thing of what was happening around him, but right now, he needed to focus. “The rest of you, ready your guns! Aim with precision, and prepare to fire at my –“

“NOBODY SHOOT!” Stan roared, startling everyone that wasn’t already stiff with fear. “She’s no monster, it’s my girl!”

Ford’s mouth fell open as the Swaven swooped down to the yard, hastily dropping something small and ragged on the ground before flying straight into Stan’s spread arms, its giant wings flapping with a joyful reunion.

“That’s my big fuzzy lady! Good to see ya, pal!” Stan laughed. “Did you come here for the num-nums? Haven’t been fed yet, have ya? …Wait, you have?” he then asked, confused as the bird tilted its head in a way he seemed to take as a ‘yes’. “But who –“

“S… Sixer…”

Every inch of Ford’s body was frozen with an unbearably deep cold. His eyes were glued onto the something the Swaven had dropped in front of him, unable to look away as that something – someone – weakly lift himself off the ground… with what little he had left to lift himself with.

Their eyes met. Ford wanted to look away. He had to use every bit of strength he had to fight down the urge to look away. He was definitely fighting… something.

The Blood Chains had never been unraveled.

“A… a little h-help…?”


	21. Arc II | Entry No. 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Arc II finale is here at last! I'm really sorry for taking so long with it - I did promise to get it out in less than a month and a half this time, but it ended up taking pretty much that exact amount of time ^^; In my defense, this one's twice as long as a standard chapter, so buckle up! It's an eventful one.
> 
> EDIT: I got some feedback confirming my doubts that the chapter length is a tad too exhausting to wade through, while others said splitting it into two separate chapters would be unnecessary. So I came up with a compromise and split the chapter into "Part 1" and "Part 2" instead! This way you'll know when you've reached the middle of the chapter in case you want to take a break and continue reading at a later time. Hope it serves its purpose! c:

* * *

 

 

_Entry No. 21._

_We find our answer in the questions we ask._

 

 

* * *

 

_Part 1_

 

* * *

 

 

” _Bill_ …”

In his mind, Ford was back in the throne room of the Fearamid, limp in his chains as the electricity lingered in the patches of skin beneath his fingernails. He was back on his knees in the portal’s looming shadow, several sleepless nights and days numbed by intoxication after his partner’s treachery had dawned on him. He was back to holding a gun to his brother’s forehead. He was back in the moment he saw his own eyes drowned in grief and madness, keeping his hand held out and his eyes shut in paralyzing fear of contact.

He only saw Bill, and nothing at all.

“There he is!”

“It’s the triangle man!”

“Hurry now, let’s put him in McGucket’s machine and end this all! Git’m! _Git_ _’m!_ ”

His body moved on its own. Before the townspeople could so much as raise their weapons in unison or Dipper’s cry of warning could reach his ears, he had stepped between them and Bill and drawn his own gun from the holster.

“You will not threaten him.” His voice was hollow, but steady. “You will not approach him. You will not _look_ at him… not so long as you’re willing to hold onto your foul intentions. Least of all… _you_.” Without a moment of hesitation, he raised his weapon towards Fiddleford standing in front of the crowd. The old mechanic took a fearless step towards him.

“What’cha plannin’ to do, Stanford?” he asked coldly. “Pull the fillin’s outta m’old choppers with that gun o’yers?”

Ford’s grip on the weapon tightened. He already knew the magnet gun he was holding wouldn’t do a thing to stop Fiddleford from approaching him. He didn’t care.

“Leave Bill to me”, he said. “I – I know you cannot trust me, but…” He didn’t know what he was saying. There was nothing he could convince the other man with, was there?

“Please”, he stammered desperately through his gritted teeth. And then: “I’m sorry.”

In spite of the useless gun still pointed at him, the look in Fiddleford’s eyes seemed to grow a little softer at Ford’s last words. But before he could respond, the sound of small feet pattering from the house caught everyone’s attention.

“Bagel! Bagelbagelbagel!”

“Trevs, come back!” Soos shouted after his son, who was swiftly making his way towards the fadingly dim glow visible through the crowd of legs.

Something in Ford’s chest tightened. “He cannot see him like this”, he breathed out. His alarmed eyes met Fiddleford’s – and relief washed over him as he saw the challenge in them was gone.

“Errbody, gather ‘round”, the mechanic shouted, gesturing the townspeople to form a wall around Bill and Ford. “Don’tcha let the lil’ kid see’m!”

Ford allowed himself a trembling sigh before turning to face Bill again.

He knelt beside him, but couldn’t bring himself to do anything more. The demon was barely conscious, and his form was barely… Ford couldn’t bring himself to touch him. There was no way to tell how much pain he was in.

He didn’t know what to do, or how to help him. All he felt was crippling terror.

“Bill”, he muttered weakly. “Can you hear me?”

He felt as though Bill was looking at him, but he… couldn’t be sure. There was no focus in his eye.

“No… No.” He could feel the link weakening again. “Stay with me.” His hands felt even clumsier and more useless than usual. So much was… broken… and he didn’t know how to fix any of it.

How could he be so powerless at a time like this?

Bill’s hand – what was left of it – rose slightly from the ground, and Ford’s dropped instantly down to support it. He still didn’t dare to touch him, so his trembling fingertips settled half an inch away from the torn limb. His breath hitched as Bill made a small motion as if reaching out to his hand – but a second before they made contact, he could hear a familiar faint ring of enchanted metal.

The Blood Chains had materialized in thin air, floating eerily where Bill’s wrist would’ve been.

It took Ford a moment to even start to comprehend why the chains had appeared. Was Bill… trying to _slap_ him…?

“I said… _help_ ”, Bill croaked hoarsely. “Y-you… sentimental… m… moron…”

Then it finally hit Ford. _The regenerative powers._ He cursed himself as he closed his eyes and quickly sought out the restraints in his mind keeping Bill’s powers at bay.  It had been so long… He’d never so much as thought of his control over the demon’s capability of healing.

He couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the bizarre sight of Bill’s torn arm starting to grow back, his mangled leg kicking back into its normal shape, the missing and dislocated bricks settling back into his surface until he regained his golden shimmer. Even his bowtie, or the small shred that was left of it, was redeemed in an instant.

Ford could finally draw the lungful of air he needed as the odd, foggy glaze faded slowly from Bill’s eye. But his focus was still somewhere Ford couldn’t see.

“Bill?”

“What… the hell?” the demon choked out. “ _What the hell?_ ”

“Bill”, Ford tried again, finally mustering up the courage to grab Bill’s renewed, still cold hand in his, “does it still hurt? But I – I healed you, didn’t I?”

“No”, Bill whispered. His eye was wide, and shivers were running through his frame. “You made it worse.”

Ford raised his helpless gaze at the twins, who had made their way through the crowd and were now standing a few steps away from Bill and him, looking at each other unsurely. Dipper was chewing the inside of his cheek, as if he was holding himself back from saying something uncalled for.

“I don’t understand”, Ford muttered, giving a small start as Bill’s fingers suddenly clutched his so tightly it hurt. This time, however, the chains didn’t appear to stop him; there was no intention to harm in his grip.

But it loosened within seconds. “Bill, no. Stay with me… His consciousness is faltering”, he told Mabel, who was looking just as alarmed.

“What’s wrong with him, Grunkle Ford?”

“Comeuppance, that’s what”, Dipper muttered through the corner of his mouth, apparently unable to hold his tongue any longer. This time, he wasn’t fast enough to dodge the furious ballerina shoe stomping on his toes. “ _Ow!_ Mabel!”

“My hands might be cuffed, but my feet are perfectly capable of exacting revenge!”

“What revenge?” Dipper asked, spreading his arms. “Revenge for what, Mabel?”

“Okay, I don’t know what is going on here”, Pacifica started, glancing up at the sky, “but I don’t think these walls are going to do much to stop the lightning if it decides to hit someone in the yard. Didn’t you say this triangle demon guy is the one who causes the magnetism or whatever?”

“Well, yes, he…” A terrifying thought crept into Ford’s mind. What if the lightning had struck Bill? What if… The Swaven”, he said, hardly aware he was speaking out loud. “The extraction granted it immunity to the weirdness contamination… It must’ve shielded Bill during their flight. But now, he – we cannot be sure if the weirdness energy still gravitates towards him.”

He turned back to Bill only to see he’d fallen unconscious, his eye still barely open in a lifeless manner that made Ford’s chest quiver in cold fear. He lifted the demon carefully in his arms and stood up.

“He must be taken inside the house at once.”

“Everybody to the operation room, stat”, Pacifica commanded in a tone that left no room for doubt for who was always in charge in every group project in her school. “At least everybody who’s got something to do with this guy.”

“Well, of course ah’ ain’t gon’ mind that lil’ spawn o’the devil in m’house”, Fiddleford snarled as the family hurried inside right in front of his nose. “How mighty fine o’ye to ask b’fore ya drag’m in, Stanford!”

“McGucket, can’t you just let it go for one minute?” Wendy protested. “That little psycho is barely alive, the Pines can handle him just fine! They’ve made it work through much worse, believe me! How about you focus on the most obvious thing to do here, like, uh, I dunno, using these badass giant robots all across the yard to fight off the monsters? Like, maybe, a few of us climbing into those giant robots and controlling them from the inside? And, like, punching the monsters in their stupid faces with their giant metal hands, and barricading the mansion with their giant metal bodies…” She rolled her hands in a prompting gesture. “See, you see what I’m getting at here?”

Fiddleford threw a last glance at his house. “But them –“

“No buts!” Wendy snapped. “Get in the flippin’ robot, McGucket! Either you lead us to the battlefield, or I’m gonna do it myself!”

“I’d take the lead if I were you, McGucket”, suggested Dipper, who had lagged behind the rest of the family. “She really wants to steer those robots.”

“Damn straight I do!” Wendy nodded with a cocky smile. “The only vehicle sweeter than Mr. P’s ride? These metal babies right here! ‘sides, what kind of an armageddon would this be without an epic robots vs. monsters fight?”

Fiddleford sighed in resignation. “All right, all right”, he said and straightened his hat. “Kids, adults, whoever’s got a drivin’ license or a library card on’m – pick a robot fer yerself. Them’ere fellers ain’t built fer fightin’, but we gon’ do what we can.” He gave Dipper a grave look. “Keep an eye on’em two, giddit?”

“You can count on me”, the boy nodded before turning to join his family in the manor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Is he still out of it? Can we do something to wake him up?”

“Yeah, maybe we should splash cold water on his wouldn’t-really-call-that-a-face. Real nice and icy. You know what else just might do the job? Electrocu–“

“ _Dipper!_ ”

“I – I think he’s slowly coming to.” Paying no mind to Dipper’s uncharacteristically ill-willed remarks that had gained the boy another series of attempted toe assaults from his sister, Ford leant a little closer to the demon, hoping the small twitch he thought he’d seen hadn’t been just a trick of his eyes. “Bill? Can you hear me?”

“ _au_ _ʎt_ _ɥuig od_ _ʇ,upip i_.”

Ford gave a small start at the string of incomprehensible syllables that followed the light touch of his fingertips. “Bill…?”

The demon’s small fingers shot up to grasp the side of Ford’s hand; despite the all but threatening swiftness of his motion, the Blood Chains did not appear.

“ _pןnohs,_ _ǝʌ_ _ǝnop gui_ _ɥtou_ _˙_ _ǝv,pןno_ _ɥs neop_ _ƃni_ _ɥʇemos_ _˙ pןno_ _ɥs_ _ǝʌa_ _ɥ' npןnohs,_ _ʇ˙ i upip,_ _ʇ op_ _ƃui_ _ɥʇyu_ _ɐ˙ o_ _ɥʍ pid si_ _ɥʇ¿ i upip,_ _ʇ op si_ _ɥʇ˙ wo_ _ɥ u_ _ɐɔ i do_ _ʇs_ _ƃui_ _ɥʇemos_ _ɟi i upip,t op_ _ƃuih_ _ʇʎua_ _¿ noy dip si_ _ɥʇ˙ no_ _ʎ pip si_ _ɥʇ˙ i upid,_ _ʇ˙ i upip,_ _ʇ_ _ǝsn_ _ɐɔ_ _ʎua_ _ɟo si_ _ɥʇ˙ i upip,_ _ʇ_ _ʇua_ _ʍ' os i upip,_ _ʇ˙ u_ _ǝh_ _ʇ_ _ʍo_ _ɥ pip ti u_ _ǝdda_ _ɥ?_ _”_

Bill kept muttering rapidly backwards as if to himself, out of breath and unresponsive to his surroundings.

“What is he saying?” Mabel whispered to Pacifica, who shook her head in confusion.

But Ford knew… he had no idea how, but he _knew_.

Causality.

In the endlessly expanding fabric of space and time, there was now a dimension where Bill never made it to Fiddleford’s manor. One where he never woke up. One where the lighting had struck him, robbing him of his weirdness, his essence… his very self. One where it had struck Ford. One where no one had survived.

Every mistake he made gave birth to another nightmare, and there was nothing he could do to stop the timelines from unfolding. Somewhere, even now, another version of himself had to pay the price for his own foolishness.

He had no power to stop _anything_.

In that moment, for the first time, he could truly understand why Bill’s thirst for power had come to be.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of heavy footsteps that stopped right next to him. He raised his gaze and saw his brother, looking down at Bill with a thoughtful frown.

“He, uh… He having a stroke or something?”

“Grunkle Stan?” Mabel put in with a note of warning in her voice. “If you came here to snark like you did back in the yard, I’m gonna have to call grump timeout.”

Stan scratched his chin. “Sorry, sweetie. Just give me a minute to carve this into my memory so I’ll never forget that miserable look on the sucker’s face.” Then he grinned. “Hey, jackass! How’s it feel to get a taste of your own medicine, huh?”

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel snapped and took a furious step towards her grunkle. “What did I just say? Timeout is on! To the shame corner with you, mister!”

“Mabel, wait.” Ford signaled the girl to stop, his eyes glued to Bill. There was a faint crease on the triangle’s brow. “I think he…”

Stan crossed his arms haughtily and bent down to cast his shadow over Bill. “Yeah, mind if I borrow some of those gold bricks?” he provoked. “Because what or whoever did that to you deserves a big medal! Still waiting for mine, by the way! Remember that? When I punched your ugly face out of this world? If I’d had a camera at hand, I’d keep a photo of you begging for your life in my wallet!”

“Shut…”

“Oh, what’s that? Can’t hear a word over the sound of your stupid sniveling! You call yourself a showman? Try ‘professional embarrassment’ instead!”

“Shut up… Finger Guns.” Bill was now visibly frowning; his gaze was still wandering somewhere across the walls of the room, but Ford could see he was slowly coming back, struggling to anchor himself back to the present. “If that’s… the best you can do…”

“Hah, right back at ya! This ain’t even worth mouthing off, yeesh”, said Stan, rolling his eyes. “Well, I’ll be wherever you can find a fridge in this rich people maze. Dipper, gimme a shout if the bastard tries anything. Can’t trust this idiot to watch out for himself anymore.” He tucked a thumb at Ford, who stared at him, hardly believing what he’d just witnessed.

“You… I, I don’t know how…” he stammered, gulping down a surge of gratitude that was forming a lump in his throat. “T… Thank you, Stanley.”

Stan raised his eyebrow. “What, you get all googoo-eyed for being called an idiot now? Heh, I’ll keep that in mind, Poindexter.”

“Hey, Mr. Ford?” they could hear from the corridor. “Is the triangle dude good now? ‘Cause I don’t think I can hold this little wiggler down much longer!”

“Oh…” Ford looked at Bill, who seemed to have no objections. “Yes, he’s okay, Soos. You can let Trevor in.”

“Baaageel!” they could hear a rejoicing shout accompany the sound of little feet running in. “Bagelbagel! Ello-ello-ello-ello!”

Stan, who had already left the room, turned on his heels to throw a last glance at his family; and when he saw his almost-grandson laugh out loud as he hugged the triangle demon so tightly the latter was lifted off the ground for a bit, he couldn’t hold back a small smile.

Bill was evidently pleased with the attention despite his weariness. He patted Trevor’s head sluggishly. “Hello yourself, tot.”

“Nofank”, Trevor said with a happy grin. “Nofank.”

Bill glanced at Melody, who was approaching him with a smile.

“’Nofank’?” he repeated. “I thought his nonsense phase was over. Not that I’m complaining.”

“It means ‘no thanks’”, Melody explained, wiping a tear of relief from the corner of her eye. “He’s learned to say that when he doesn’t want to stop what he’s doing.”

“Oh, neat.” Bill glanced at Trevor with a smirk. “Do your thing, kid! Show the rules of language who’s boss. He’s got some serious potential”, he then told Melody. “For a future madman, that is.”

“Well, even future madmen gotta nap”, Soos put in. “This little bugger has been worried sick about you, Mr. Bill, hasn’t slept since we left the Shack. That’s a long time for a dude this small. Sorry, Trevs, but it’s time for a snooze.”

“Nofank”, said Trevor, but didn’t protest when his father took him in his arms; he was too busy beaming at Bill to protest.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving”, Melody said, patting her stomach. “Maybe we should follow Stan’s lead and get something to eat?”

Ford nodded. “Good idea. I am not hungry, so I will stay here with Bill. Kids, go on ahead with Soos and Melody… and please make sure Stan hasn’t gotten lost on his way to the kitchen.”

“Come on, the house isn’t _that_ complicated”, Pacifica objected.

“Grunkle Stan has Alzheimer’s, Pacifica”, Dipper blurted out quietly, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Oh! …Oh. I’m… sorry to hear that.”

Mabel saw it best to take the situation into her own hands. “To the kitchen!” she whooped. “Pacifica, lead the way!”

“Okay, okay, stop pushing me!”

“Bye-gel”, said Trevor, waving his hand clumsily at Bill as he was carried out of the room.

As the family headed to the kitchen, Dipper, once again, lingered behind.

He scratched his head awkwardly, looking at the door. “So, uh… Great uncle Ford, do you think you’ll manage if I head out for a bit as well? I’ll just be a minute, I need to grab a bite and check the situation outside. I know Grunkle Stan just told me to keep watch on that guy, and McGucket put me in charge of the same thing earlier, but… screw those two. I trust you with him.”

“Thank you”, Ford nodded, too weary from shock to smile just yet. “Bill and I will be fine.”

“I’ll bring you a snack or something, too. You have to eat.”

“You’re right. I’m counting on you, then.”

A silence fell in the room after Dipper left. Ford gulped as he turned back to Bill, who was now looking at him, his eye still half-lidded with fatigue but steadily gaining more alertness.

“What happened to you?” he whispered.

Bill shrugged weakly. “Got mistaken for a cat toy.”

“A cat…?”

“Heard me right, Six. Go back to the motel last year and replace your big beaky pet with a housecat, and figure it out from there.”

Ford couldn’t hold back a shudder. Now that he knew the circumstances, he could imagine the chain of events that had led to Bill’s condition perhaps a little too well.

“I’m so sorry.” It slipped out of his mouth almost inadvertently.

Bill frowned. “You’d better be. Took your sweet time to let me heal back there, didn’t you?”

“That –“ Ford stammered. “I was – I didn’t realize I could –“

“You didn’t _realize?_ Some genius you are.”

“You… You said I made it worse.” The man gulped again. “Are you still in pain?”

“’Still’?” Bill scoffed. “What exactly about temporal distance looks _still_ to you? It’s an illusion, just like time itself! Forget revoke, try retake instead! You should know by now that there’s no ifs or dids for those who have seen it all, and a could is as good as is!”

“Bill –“

“Oh, what’s that? Yeah! That’s the sound of whoever gave you all those doctorates wanting their money back! Sheesh, it’s like you’ve learned nothing at all!”

At last, Ford couldn’t help but smile a bit. As usual, he couldn’t keep up with Bill’s rambling, but at least the demon was acting like himself again.

Then it hit him: a wave of gratitude so painful it made his breath hitch and his entire body tremble.

 _This isn_ _’t one of those timelines._

 _He_ _’s still here. He_ _’s still himself._

Bill watched as his fists clenched in a struggle against the tears burning in his eyes. “You know, Six, relief is just your sorry mortal way of admitting you simply stood and watched it all happen.”

Ford took a deep, slow breath to regain his composure. He couldn’t deny the mocking truth in Bill’s words; but the small black fingers hadn’t let go of his hand, either.

The man allowed them both a comforting moment of silence before he spoke up again. “I need your help.”

“I’m not going out there”, Bill retorted immediately, but his tone of voice was uncharacteristically subdued. “Not without a deal and every inkling of my powers back in my own two hands.”

“I understand that. However, we must –“

“ _I_ _’m not going out there_.”

The grip on Ford’s hand tightened; another set of six met four. “I would not let you if you tried.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Is there really nothing else we can do?”

“I told you, Dipper. We need _intel._ This isn’t like one of your comic books and mystery novels –“

“…that got _you_ into a fancy private school, remember?”

“– real paranormal investigation requires time and patience, which you knuckleheads clearly don’t have –”

“Pfft, she called us knuckleheads! You’re just a few months older than us, Pacifica!”

“Uh, half a year, actually, and could you guys please focus for one minute?”

“To be fair, there’s not much to focus on here.”

 _“I_ _’m working on it, dumbass!"_

“Pacifica is right”, Ford said over the youth’s gradually rising quarrel while pacing across the operation room. “Before we can take any further action, we have no choice but to wait. I am quite sure Fiddleford’s forces will provide us with news from the outside soon enough.”

As if by his command, the speakers of the communication monitor started rattling again. “Okay, I’m back”, they heard Wendy speak up. “Sorry ‘bout that. The radio signal’s been a bit funky – turns out it was my phone that caused the interference. My bad.”

“Why were you on the phone?” Mabel asked, then added in a whisper everyone could hear: “Have you found a new boyfriend?”

“Mabel, you know I haven’t had one in years”, Wendy answered in an irritated tone. “Boys are useless. No offense, Dipper.”

“None taken”, Dipper swished her off hastily. “Seriously though, why were you on your phone? You’re on a battlefield, don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Actually, no. By the time we got here, the monsters had scattered all over the place. It’s like they randomly lost interest in stomping the mansion and just, I dunno, went their separate ways to just hang out and destroy stuff. It’s like a lame party that ran out of punch in here. We’re trying to shield what’s left of the town, but so far it’s been more or less just standing on guard.”

“The superanomalies are no longer targeting the manor?” Ford repeated with a frown, shooting a quick glance at Bill. “But how…”

“Wimpy, namby-pamby hippies, all of them”, Bill commented lazily in the background. “Red hit the nail on the head – this sadsack show gives apocalypse a bad name! ‘Lame’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“That’s pretty bold from someone who got literally torn to bits by one of the monsters”, Dipper pointed out bitingly.

Bill threw him an infuriated look that quickly turned into derision. “Hah! Maybe so. Oddly enough, good old Whiskers is the only pal in that bunch I’d tip my hat to! Right idea, wrong target! And if I’m being real honest with you here, I’d rather jump into a cat-shaped shredder for a second time than party with a bunch of guys who only seem to care about, ugh…” he rolled his eye and cringed a bit, “… _yoga_.”

“Wait… Are you saying there were other monsters that never tried to harm you?” Ford asked, puzzled. “Why did you not tell me this earlier?”

“You didn’t ask!”

The man cursed silently and turned back to the monitor. “Wendy, have you encountered any monsters that act in a notably unaggressive manner?”

“No, it’s a total fight club out here”, answered Wendy. “Don’t get me wrong, these guys are here for a rave. They’re just not very psyched up for it, y’know? Oh, hang on – it’s the boss.“ The line fell silent again.

Ford and Dipper looked at each other helplessly.

“What now?” Dipper asked.

“I… I have no idea”, Ford said, shaking his head. “Truthfully, proceeding from here is starting to seem impossible. Every new thing we learn only adds to my confusion.”

They could hear Bill chuckling in amusement.

Wendy was back. “Sorry, had to switch to the internal line for a second. Dudes – I know McGucket was acting like a total nut earlier, but now? He’s the man. That old kook’s got some serious strategic skills going on. Mad respect.”

“Send him my regards”, Ford said instinctively before he could bite his tongue, but Wendy turned him down.

“Yeah, sorry, but I’m gonna put that on hold. He’s still crazy pissed at you and the shape guy. Keeps trying to turn on the security cameras in his house with a voice command, but the signal’s too weak. Anyway…” They could hear her pressing buttons, initializing the robot to move again. “We’re gonna try to chase the monsters up against each other, see if we can get them to do the job for us. I’ll catch you guys a little later, okay?”

“Okay. Be safe out there, Wendy”, said Dipper.

“Just for you, loverboy”, Wendy laughed before going offline, leaving Dipper to stare at the speaker with a frown.

“’Loverboy’? Seriously, we’re doing that again? Mabel, this isn’t funny, it’s bullying”, he threw to his sister, who was supporting herself on the wall laughing. “What are you, thirteen?”

“Well, that was helpful”, Pacifica noted and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, just like your sarcasm”, Dipper threw back.

“Shut up! I’ve actually studied this thing. We can’t get anywhere with this, right, Dr. Pines?” Pacifica turned to Ford and gave him a dogged stare.

Ford frowned, racking his brain over what they’d learned. “Admittedly, the only new piece of information we acquired was that the superanomalies have lost their interest in the manor. We must figure out why… That is the only way we can proceed.”

“See?” Dipper threw bitingly at Pacifica. “Introspection! That’s what we need to do instead of running straight into the danger zone screaming intel this, intel that!”

“Oh my god, Dipper!” Pacifica was losing her temper as well. “I never said we should run straight into the monsters, the guys with the robots are doing that for us! I’m saying we need to tell them what to do, and how to investigate what’s happening outside the mansion!”

“You just want to boss people around, don’t you? Why can’t you just leave it to Wendy and McGucket?”

“Why are _you_ turning this into a problem when it doesn’t have to be one?”

“Please, calm down, both of you”, Ford tried; Pacifica gave him an apologetic look, but Dipper didn’t listen.

“Just hear me out for two seconds, okay?” the teen lashed out. “Look, I don’t want to be that guy who knows everything better than your elite school teachers. I just feel like we have all the information we need right here.” He tapped the pile of papers and notes he was holding. “We just have to dig deeper, revise some things, connect the dots, you know? In fact, let me just…”

He pulled a roll of tape from his pocket and started arranging the papers on the nearest wall with a frown verging on desperate. “If I put this here, and this one here…”

“A conspiracy map?” Mabel groaned. “Dipper, that is so yesteryear! You haven’t done those since we were kids!”

“You don’t know that, Mabel! You don’t know anything!” Her brother turned around with an odd gleam in his eyes. “Just give me a few, okay?” he almost shouted. “I’ll figure this out! This is the one thing I’m good at. Right, Great uncle Ford? You _know_ I’m really good at this! And what are _you_ laughing at?” he suddenly lashed out at Bill, who had been snorting with less than subtle laughter in the background for a longer while.

“Sorry, kid”, Bill said cheerfully, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, “but this is the richest entertainment I’ve seen in a while, and that’s a lot from someone who’s been stuck in your mortal soap for over a year now! You think knowledge is some kind of a constant? HAH! Priceless!”

“You shut your – just shut up! You’ve got no right to talk!” Dipper yelled, startling everyone with his sudden fury. “You’re the one who drove me into it in the first place!”

“Wait, he drove you into what?” Pacifica asked quietly.

“And I figured out _everything_ , all by myself!”

“Dipper”, Ford interrupted, stepping in swiftly. “Please, calm down. Do not fall for his taunt.” He turned to face the smug-looking demon. “Bill, you say knowledge isn’t a constant. What do you mean by that?”

“He’s just –“ Dipper started angrily, but his great uncle hushed him with a subtle gesture.

“You told me you originate from pure knowledge”, Ford continued, “so you know its nature better than anyone else. Are you saying knowledge itself, not just our understanding of it, can be subject to change?”

“Well, duh”, Bill said, spreading his arms condescendingly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but knowledge isn’t some grand old story of progress and consolidation! There is no truth! Everything expands, until it doesn’t! That’s chaos for ya!”

“And yet”, answered Ford with a frown, “humanity has achieved a great deal of things through the power of knowledge. Isn’t that right? Look how much of it has accumulated in the culture we’ve built in hundreds of thousands of years! Some things we’ve learned centuries ago continue to guide our hand to this day. Are you saying none of it is constant?”

“Wow”, Pacifica mumbled. “Off-track, much?”

“Hah! Lemme take you back to what I told you just a short while ago – irony not intended!” Bill said, rolling his hand around in a rewinding motion. “Past, present, future, time – all illusions, if you consider the big picture! That is to say, leave causality out of the equation, and your, haha, _timeless_ knowledge amounts to nothing! And you know how the Multiverse does its rounds, Brainiac!”

Ford was at a loss of words. “I…”

“Okay, what the heck is he going on about?” Pacifica interrupted sharply. “And how exactly is it helpful here?”

“In no way at all, trust me”, was Dipper’s instant answer. “He’s saying knowledge is useless, because the moment we assume something’s true and take it for granted, a timeline is born where it isn’t. Causality is always bound to fail in at least one alternate outcome. Right, Great uncle Ford?”

“That’s… That’s right, Dipper.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything, and it’s not relevant to _anything_ ”, Dipper continued with an annoyed frown. “I say we don’t waste another second on this wiseguy fishing for attention, because that’s the only thing he’s got going for himself, and we’re not giving it to him.”

“No, perhaps…” Ford muttered quietly, running a hand through his hair. Something was pounding against his forehead, a realization that was as frightening as it was revolutionary. He _knew_ … He should’ve known it all along, ever since he’d learned of the fickle laws of the Multiverse.

“If what Bill says is true”, he said slowly, “the theories upon which we’ve built our opposition to this disaster are more than misguided… They are utterly absurd. Who is to say this is not one of the timelines born out of the irregularity of physics?”

“Great uncle Ford, don’t listen to him!” Dipper all but lashed out, startling even himself a bit. “You know he’s just trying to knock us off balance!”

“No, he is right”, Ford retorted just as mercilessly. “Nothing else can explain how we could’ve been so terribly wrong about the weirdness energy in the first place. Even the magnetism! Everything was built upon that simple, seemingly obvious law, but…” He glanced at Bill, who had raised his eyebrow in a way that Ford could only see as mocking anticipation.

He was waiting for an answer. He knew as well as Ford did that he was reaching the brink of a solution.

“Perhaps… That could well be the root of our error”, he continued muttering, encouraged by every little meaningful change in Bill’s stare. “Yes… Why would such a chaotic form of energy seek…” his eyes widened as Dipper’s last word found an echo in his thoughts. “… _balance_ …?”

And then… it finally dawned on him.

“The unified theory of weirdness.”

“Oh boy”, said Dipper in a quiet voice.

Ford turned to look at him. “Dipper”, he said almost breathlessly, “that’s the key. Don’t you understand?”

His apprentice raised his hands in a defensive manner. “No offense, but… that’s a stretch if I ever saw one. And, and anyway – if this is something you came up with from what Bill said, I’m not sure if it’s even worth a shot.”

“No, please, listen to me”, Ford started, turning from the boy to pace around. “This is it. This is it! After all these years, decades after abandoning what I thought would be my life’s work… I finally understand. I was wrong all along. ‘Unified theory’? There is nothing unified about weirdness! It was nothing short of _crazy_ of me to ever assume such a thing! How absurd!” He laughed at his own epiphany, leaving the youth around him staring in confusion.

“Is he okay?” Pacifica whispered to Mabel and Dipper. “He’s starting to sound like… you know, _him_.”

“Grunkle Ford, you’re ackin’ cray-cray”, Mabel voiced all three of them. “What’s going on? Did the lightning strike you too while we weren’t looking?”

“I apologize”, Ford said with a beaming smile. “It’s just that I… I never thought it would be so elevating to realize my lifelong error. I may have given up on my most ambitious theory and left it unfinished, but in truth, it never left me… At last, I feel like I understand why.”

“Uh, wow. Mind sharing with us?” Pacifica asked, a hint of genuine curiosity bleeding through her sarcastic tone. Dipper still appeared dubious, but he, too, was looking keenly at his great uncle.

“Yes, of course… I apologize for losing my, hm, balance for a moment.” He stole a quick smile at Bill, who made a small gesture mimicking a tip of his hat in response. “Allow me to explain. Nearly forty years ago, upon discovering the oddities of Gravity Falls, I started working on something I referred to as ‘the unified theory of weirdness’. It was a grand parascientific theory that was to explain how all weirdness, in this town and everywhere else, is connected through a set of laws similar to those of physics and mathematics, only yet to be fully observed, recorded and reviewed by the scientific community.”

“Yeah, these two told me that much after all the craziness happened five years ago”, said Pacifica. “But go on.”

“When I first met Bill, he applauded me for my endeavors and offered me a helping hand. Now, of course, I know all too well of his ulterior motives and treachery… At the time, however, I took his encouragement to the heart. Upon his betrayal, I thought ill of the whole project – it was nothing but a painful reminder of my failures and arrogance, so I ridded myself of it without hesitation. I have not revisited the theory ever since that day… But now I see that through all these years, it has persevered as the imperative of my work, a cornerstone of my reasoning I never so much as thought possible to question.”

“And… you’re questioning it now…?”

“Thoroughly and entirely”, Ford laughed. “You see… All these years, I’ve based my understanding of weirdness magnetism on the same principles I’d discovered on my quest for a unified theory, or so I thought. I assumed weirdness is a simple, uniform type of energy. Now I realize it is anything but.”

In a spur of newly found excitement amidst the crisis, Ford spread his arms to gesture at his every companion respectively. “Dipper, I am sure you remember our talk near the end of your first summer in Gravity Falls. Your extraordinary brilliance reminds me much of myself. You and I share a similar streak of weirdness.”

“Yeah”, Dipper said with a cautious smile. “That I can agree with.”

“Mabel, on the other hand”, Ford continued, “is no less exceptional. Hers is an unmatched kind of weirdness – truthfully, I have never seen anything like it. Would you not also agree that it is very different from ours, not only as a trait of her personality, but a form of energy that invokes her unique self?”

“Well, yeah… Wait, do you mean…”

Ford turned to the third youth in the room. “Pacifica”, he started, “I’ve hardly had enough time to get to know you, but I am already well aware of what makes you special. You are a renegade. You turned your back to the stale ways of your family and started off on your own. Not many have that kind of courage.”

“Huh. Thanks.” Pacifica rubbed her elbow. “I mean, honestly, telling off your parents doesn’t really strike me as weirdness, but…”

“That is a valid point”, Ford nodded. “Weirdness as a form of energy may not be fully correspondent to how we understand it in common language. You see, weirdness…” Again, he glanced at Bill as if in search of support. Bill didn’t say a word, but the look in his eye was now definitely intrigued. “Weirdness is a superdimensional energy”, he continued with even more enthusiasm in his voice. “It does not pertain to our reality so much as it does to all existing realities altogether. In short, weirdness is the force that causes the divergence of timelines. Anomalies, deviations, even flaws and errors… Everything that has the power to twist its own fate into a new direction, notwithstanding the circumstances, is a generator of weirdness energy in and of itself.”

“Oh crap”, Dipper burst out. “Okay, that’s actually starting to make sense. Whoa. So what you were saying earlier… Are there actually different kinds of weirdness energy? Did I get that right?”

“Yes, precisely!” Ford confirmed with a rejoicing grin. “I cannot believe I have never thought of this before – now, it seems laughably obvious. Just look at us! I was born a freak of nature, destined to determine my own course as there was never much readily paved road ahead of me.”

“A wild card from the get-go”, Bill put in with a smirk.

Ford nodded. “Dipper, you were always misunderstood, but you found your inner brilliance in your interests and exceptional skills of deduction. You are a logical, cohesive type. Mabel, your ability to follow your heart, independent yet kind and never dismissive of others… I would call you a chaotic, embracing type.”

“Haha”, Mabel giggled. “Destructive hug powers.”

“Pacifica, you are a reformative type – your bloodline forced a fully planned future upon you, but you broke away from your predetermined destiny and took fate into your own hands.”

“And Bill…” At last, he turned to answer to the demon’s intense stare. “You are, quite simply, the epitome of weirdness. What shaped you into an individual being was no less than pure will to change everything, break every law, cut every thread of fate that held you and the rest of the cosmos trapped in a status quo. This, inevitably, leads to chaos. Or so I thought.”

 “Always a pleasure, pal”, Bill quipped proudly, straightening his bowtie with a grandiloquent gesture, then suddenly dropped his haughty act and squinted. “Wait. You ‘thought’?”

“For eons, you have resided in the vicinity of Gravity Falls”, Ford went on. “And from every aspect of my research, this town appeared to be the global center of weirdness magnetism. But if that is the case… why have the weirdness concentration levels remained so low? Weirdness has never been synonymous to stability, quite the opposite. So how come has the population of Gravity Falls lived in peace throughout centuries?”

Bill looked a little peeved. “The hell if I know! Maybe the scary monsters of your little space rock just aren’t scary enough. The hippie freakshow that crawled to me after you guys left sure didn’t leave me particularly impressed!”

“No, that only proves my point further”, Ford said and turned back to the teens, much to Bill’s dismay. “Bill was never the cause of the magnetic effect. He is merely an amplifier.”

“Hey, eyes back at me, Six! I’m still in the room, you know!” Bill flared up. “And it’s my role to be obnoxious, not yours, so out with it! Why is this hick town so much more of a bore than it by all means should be?”

“Because weirdness itself is not a catalyst for chaos.” Ford locked eyes with Bill again. “The unified theory of weirdness was bound to fail, because I never thought to consider different nuances and subcategories of this type of energy. Chaos is born from unbalance between different types of weirdness, and Bill’s type… is one that brings balance.”

Bill crossed his arms. “Pardon my French, buddy, but what a bunch of –“

Mabel made a loud nasal noise to drown the rest of Bill’s sentence. “Your French is unpardonable, mister! Try again after Dipper turns eighteen. He’s got delicate baby ears.”

“Mabel, stop making everything –”

“Shut up, Dipper. Okay, I admit this is all pretty cool, I guess”, Pacifica said before the other twin could finish his retort, “and if you ever wanted to give a lecture in my dad’s academy, I wouldn’t say no –“

“Wait, the school is yours now? You _made your parents buy the school to get in?_ ” Dipper started incredulously, but Mabel hushed him.

“– but how exactly is this supposed to make up for our lacking intel and solve this thing?”

“You and your intel – wait. Hang on.” Dipper frowned. “Hold that thought.”

“Beep-boop! It’s on hold”, said Mabel, holding Pacifica’s head between her hands.

“Great uncle Ford, you said chaos is born from unbalance, right? And the lightning is concentrated weirdness energy… and it’s turning the weirdness of whoever it hits into its opposite kind.”

“Yes”, Ford confirmed, “that is definitely how it appears to be.”

Dipper took a deep breath. “Okay. I can’t believe I can finally say this, but… I have an idea.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Wendy, do you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Doc”, the answer came from the operation room’s speakers. “Situation normal, all fracked up. Tried fighting, but it’s back to boring.”

Dipper leaned towards the microphone. “Let me guess, McGucket’s plan didn’t work?”

“Nope. The monsters are avoiding each other like the plague. How’d you know? Got the news from someone else? Dude, I thought I was your only one.”

“Yeah, not even taking that bait. Okay, so while you guys were doing your thing, we figured out something, too. McGucket wasn’t too far off with his idea. We need to drive those anomalies to clash, but not with each other.”

“So with us? We already tried that, and it’s not working out. They’re too unpredictable, and just not that into us.”

“No, not with you – with other monsters, a different group. Listen, I want you to drive them to the forest. There should be another bunch of freaks, doing, uh, yoga? If we can trust this guy’s word, that is…” He glared at Bill, who made a mockingly innocent face. “But I guess it’s our only shot.”

“Hey, hey”, the demon put in cheerfully, “it’s soyboys versus thugs! Match of a lifetime, I wouldn’t miss it for half a galaxy! Offer me a whole, and we’ll talk!”

“You want us to drive these rioting beasts into harassing some kind of peaceful forest hippies? Sure, okay”, Wendy said nonchalantly. “I’ll give McGucket a holler. Be right back.”

Dipper turned back to his companions. “Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen”, he started explaining. “Great uncle Ford said chaos is caused by weirdness unbalance, right?”

“Right”, his uncle confirmed. “The traces of interdimensional weirdness Bill’s invasion left in our realm, combined with his following four years of absence, has interfered with the natural weirdness balance of this planet, causing the energy to concentrate and act in an unpredictable manner. That, I believe, is what has caused the lightning to manifest.”

Dipper nodded. “So how can we restore that balance? Right now, the anomalies are moving in groups, each contaminated by a different type of weirdness energy. It looks like the lightning is like an inverted energy current that was born out of hyperconcentration. So what we need to do here is fight chaos with chaos. We just need to stir things up a bit! If we can scramble the different types of weirdness together, it’ll mess with the weirdness centroids that are filled with reciprocal energy, causing –“ He turned to Ford, whose face had lit up in understanding.

“A multipolar magnetic energy paradox!” the scientist and his apprentice exclaimed in unison, grinning victoriously at the mutual feeling of discovery.

“Wow”, said Pacifica; she seemed unsure herself whether she was being sarcastic or sincerely admiring.

“The magnetism will start consuming the energy itself, creating a black hole of sorts”, Dipper continued. “But instead of matter, it’ll suck in all the excess energy until the natural balance has been restored.”

He paused and threw a furious glance at Bill, who could once again be heard cackling quietly behind their backs. “Again?” he spat out. “What now?”

“Just wait for it, Pine Tree”, Bill sneered.

“Oh, but _do_ tell –“

“Hey, crew? We’ve got a problem.”

Dipper clenched his fists as the speaker turned on again. “What’s up, Wendy?” he asked with a voice strained with anger.

“It’s not working out. We managed to chase them towards the forest for a bit, but then there was, like, this… power field? You know, like an invisible shield kind of thing. They ran straight into it, but couldn’t get through. Now they’re heading towards the manor again.”

 _It must be because there is conflict in the air_ , Ford thought. He mustn’t let the hateful friction between Bill and Dipper develop any further than this.

“Bill”, he warned as the demon once again hollered with laughter, but it was too late.

“Thanks for trying”, Dipper spoke calmly in the microphone, but his eyes were furious and glued to Bill. “Listen, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“Gotcha.”

The boy turned to the demon. “What. Is it?” he snarled.

“Oh, you’re asking now?” said Bill cheerfully. “Never crossed your mind to ask the real chaos expert here before, now did it?”

“Cut the crap and tell me!”

Bill rolled his eye. “Sheesh. Listen, kid”, he said in a tone that was stretched with condescension, “you wanna chase different groups of freaks up against each other? Not gonna work! It’s like forcing two similarly charged magnets together. The tension is just going to push both groups away.”

“But are they not opposite forces?” Ford asked.

“Nope! Weirdness is all about initiation, pal. And when you’re surrounded by a bunch of likeminded creatures, you just wanna keep your own nest clean and opt out of any and all cultural exchange, right? So you gotta make them _want_ to clash with the other group. How, you ask? Time for a little anecdote!” He took a more relaxed position in the air. “See, back when I was buddying up humanity for the first time, it took me a little while to figure out what makes you tick. Turns out the only way to make you guys meddle with each other is to make you believe that some other guy or society out there has something you don’t! All about that envy and greed, amiright?”

“Well, in that case, you sound like just the right guy for the job.”

Bill glanced at Pacifica at her challenging tone. “What was that, Deluxe?”

“Seriously? You call me Deluxe when I’m dressed in this – ugh, never mind”, Pacifica swished off the unappealing nickname. “Anyway, you could pep up the monsters, right?”

“Me?” Bill shrugged with a smirk. “Nah!”

“Why not? You did it to humans, sounds like we’ve got wars and all that other fun stuff thanks to you! So why not these guys as well?”

“Like I always say, don’t shoot the messenger”, said Bill, now sounding a little irked. “Sorry, bubs, but you’re asking me to build Rome in a day! These things take time and patience, what with the pesky inability to lie I’ve got going on!”

Dipper turned to the operation table again. “Wendy, it’s me again. Can you use Fiddleford’s megaphone –“

“Gigaphone.”

“What?”

“He calls it the gigaphone, because it’s, like, powered up with nerd force or something.”

“Fine, can you use the _gigaphone_ to communicate with the anomalies? Tell them there’s something they want in the forest, or –“

“Already tried that”, they heard Wendy say. “McGucket bombed them with all kinds of weird old-timey inspirational quotes, but they’re not listening. Guess we’re not weird enough for their attention.”

Her words confirmed Ford’s earlier doubts; it appeared Bill was the only being technically capable of acting as a middleman between the different monster groups. If only he could…

SLAM. Dipper had punched the monitor in a sudden fit of overwhelming frustration.

“Useless!” he shouted, throwing his fist on the operation table over and over again. “It’s all useless! Nothing’s working! Why isn’t anything working?”

“Yeesh. I’m out, call me if you need me”, said Wendy quickly and switched off the line.

“Dipper”, Mabel tried, but had to duck when her twin brother’s lividly pointed finger flung towards Bill without warning.

“ _You!_ It’s you again, isn’t it?” he yelled. “You and your neverending web of lies!”

Bill groaned and raised his gaze towards the ceiling. “Sweet insanity, give me _patience!_ If I had a penny for every time I’ve had to spell this out for you, I’d scrape the gold off them and make myself a coat! _I_ _– can_ _’t_ _– lie!_ ”

“You can’t prove that!” Dipper retorted furiously. “It’s literally impossible to prove!”

“Ha! Try me, kid!”

“ _No!_ _”_ the boy screamed, startling everyone with the uncontrolled volume of his voice. “I’m done with you and your games! You’re just trying to confuse me, but I won’t bite! I’m not gonna do anything you tell me ever again! Is that clear? Never again! I’m gonna fix this my own way, just watch –”

“Dipper”, Mabel tried again as Dipper marched back to his started conspiracy wall. “Stop being silly.”

“Yeah, this is getting out of hand –“ Pacifica started, but was silenced by another frantic yell.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO THINK!”

“ _Dipper!_ ”

Ford’s thunderous call seemed to finally startle Dipper back to reality. He turned to face his great uncle, expecting to meet anger in his eyes – but instead, he saw astonishment and a glint of hope.

“I… I think you are right”, Ford said and approached him. “Bill cannot prove his inability to lie.”

“Y… yeah?” Dipper answered unsurely.

“Why is it?”

“Because…” His eyes widened. “ _That_ would make him… a liar.” Then he shook his head a little. “Sorry, I don’t get it.”

“Pennies are made of zinc, Dipper”, Ford pointed out in an amused tone. “They don’t have an inkling of gold on them.”

“Oh.” Dipper gasped quietly. “Oh! Oh, _right_. Ha! Haha, that’s brilliant!”

Pacifica lost her temper again. “Okay, we get it, you’re smart!” she snapped. “Stop shutting us out and tell us what’s going on!”

“You’ll see, Pacifica.” He turned to Bill. “Lie”, was his sharp command. “Now.”

“Seriously?” Bill rolled his eye. “Are you running for the title of the densest human I’ve met in a trillion years? Because you have a solid place in top ten, that’s for sure!” He turned to Ford. “Hey IQ, you’re his mentor, right? Do me a favor and give this brat a reality check!”

“No, I’m with him”, said Ford. “I want you to lie.”

Bill looked between the two with an incredulous scowl. “You _want_ me to lie?” he then repeated. “Oh, but that just makes all the difference, right? _Wrong!_ Just how do you think this works? I’m the embodiment of _meaning!_ The connection between words and facts! I can’t just make things up –“

“Yes, you can”, Ford interrupted him, “because you’re no longer above your own time. Granted, you cannot distort the knowledge you possess, but that which you don’t – that is to say, everything that has been, or could have been, subject to change since the moment you first entered the physical realm…”

“Tell me, Bill”, said Dipper. “What is the current population of New York City?”

“How the hell should I know that?” Bill almost screeched.

“That’s just it! You don’t know. And you can’t look it up, because –”

“– you are no longer the all-seeing eye”, Ford finished Dipper’s sentence. “But you’re still bound by the truth, aren’t you? However, if you cannot access the truth –“

Bill stared at him. He squinted.

Then he gasped, his eye wide as a plate.

He shot up in the air and pointed his finger at Dipper. “The population of NYC?” he shrieked. “ _Exactly one and a half!_ ” Then he shrieked again, this time out of sheer excitement. “HA! HAHAHA! I SAID THAT! DID YOU HEAR ME SAY THAT? BECAUSE IT HAPPENED! _I PRODUCED THOSE VERY, VERY UNTRUE WORDS AND GENTLY GUIDED THEM INTO A BUNCH OF MORTAL MINDS!_ OH, WHAT A RUSH! I LIED! FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ETERNITY, BILL CIPHER LIED THROUGH IS TEETH! HEY! SHOOTING STAR! Ask me if your brother has gummy worms for guts!”

“Ew!” Mabel made a face that was a mixture of disgust and curiosity. “Does Dip-Dop have gummy worms for guts?”

“HE SURE DOES! _HAHAHA, THIS IS PRICELESS!_ ”

“Gross _and_ useless for blackmail”, Mabel pondered. “I’ll have to think about what to do with this misinformation. Wait, why exactly is this a big deal?” she then asked with a puzzled look as Ford and Dipper gave each other a triumphant high five (or, in Ford’s case, a high six). “And why are you guys suddenly so stoked about Bill making things up?”

“Remember when he said earlier that his inability to lie makes it impossible for him to meddle with the anomalies?” Dipper reminded her. “Well, now he can!”

“Ha! Don’t get ahead of yourselves, folks”, Bill whooped – he was too busy flying upside down across the room to even snark properly. “Just because I can doesn’t mean I will! WOHOO! THE UNIVERSE IS MADE ENTIRELY OF KNOT THEORY AND THE STENCH OF BURNING PLASTIC! THE SKY IS LAVA! EVERYTHING OUTSIDE THIS ROOM IS LAVA! THE NEXT PERSON TO SAY A WORD WILL MEET AN INSTANT, AGONIZING DEATH!”

“Bill, control yourself”, said Ford with little actual effort to make the demon stay still. “Think about the opportunity you’re being offered. Think of just how much you could achieve! You can have a full audience of your own, and an interactive one at that! The world as your stage and you as the conductor of mindless disarray! Don’t you want to live your newly gained freedom to the fullest?”

“Hah! Freedom is a bit of a stretch, but you gotta start somewhere! And you know perfectly well what my demands are, Fordsy!”

For a moment, Ford fell into silence.

“You are right”, he said at last. “For you, this new development hardly means freedom. But for us, it means that we are finally standing on an equal ground.” He drew a deep breath as he waited for Bill to calm down enough to hear what he was about to say next.

“I am now ready to make a deal with you.”

 

 

* * *

 

_Part 2_

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, then… Now that Finger Guns had his spotlight, how about I have mine?”

Bill glared daggers at Stan, who had barged into the room the moment Ford had uttered the word _deal_ and nearly assaulted Bill on the spot, screaming “ _Fool me three times_ , asshole! There’s a reason that expression ends after the second time, and _you don_ _’t wanna find out!_ ”

Now that Stan was being held back by the younger set of twins, the triangle spread his arms as if sarcastically thanking his audience for the silence before turning to speak to Ford. “Now, I gotta say, for all the ridiculous back-and-forth I’ve seen you play over the years, I did not see this proposition coming! Either you backed out on your pledge to not make a deal with me _‘for as long as I live_ _’,_ or you suddenly developed a deathwish! Kudos for an unexpected plot twist, but I wouldn’t pop the champagne just yet!” He snapped his fingers. “We have terms to discuss, smart guy.”

Ford nodded. “You refuse to go outside unless I secure your safety.”

“Hah, look at you slipping yourself into the equation! Anything to be a part of the hustle, amiright?” Bill scorned. “Well, I’d watch your words if I were you! For a second there, it sounded like you’re offering to take a bullet for me! That’s adorable!”

“In fact, that is exactly what I am proposing to do.”

Bill’s jeering smirk dropped. “Wait. For real?”

“Yes”, said Ford calmly. “I am ready to take any and all damage inflicted on you upon myself. Should you be struck by a superanomaly again, the Blood Chains will absorb the impact and transfer it to my body instead of yours.”

His words were followed by a dead silence.

“Oh, come on”, Pacifica finally broke it. “In what way is that even possible? Laws of physics, people! You can’t just transfer damage from point A to –”

“No, I can do it”, Ford interrupted her. “The spell that invokes the Blood Chains is based on shared corporeality. I have not done this before, but… there are precedents of our senses being connected in a similar manner. I know it can be done.”

“For once, I think the schmuck was right”, Stan jerked out. “My brother’s gone suicidal. Come on, Ford, you’re not serious, are you? This plan is worse than our twin scam five years ago!”

“I agree”, said Dipper, his face white as a sheet. “Really couldn’t agree more here. It’s not even a gamble, he’s gonna run into a monster on purpose just to hurt you. Or worse.”

“Kid’s got the right idea”, Bill confirmed darkly. His glare was drilling into Ford’s eyes, the warning in it less than subtle. “I’ll even do you a favor and cut the suspense right here and now. If you do this, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

“I know.”

“This is not a drill, Stanford. I’ll make you know pain. I’ll damage you beyond repair.”

“Haven’t you already?” asked Ford with a small, placid smile. “I am not afraid of you, Bill.”

Bill scowled. “You should be. You have no idea what I can do once I’m free again. Hell, even I don’t know that!”

“Well, that only proves my point”, Ford said. “We are finally seeing eye to eye, equal in our ignorance.”

And at last, Bill burst into wild laughter. “Boy, you’re a riot today! You do realize I’m still holding the upper hand here, right? Sure, having your physical well-being in the palm of my trigger-happy hand is nice and all, but the cards are far from dealt! I’m not done with my demands just yet, Fordsy!”

“I am aware of that. The impact transference is merely a practical measure to keep you out of harm’s way… We haven’t even touched the actual terms of our deal.”

Bill seemed a little skeptical at his unwavering resolution. “But you know how it goes from here, don’tcha? It’s double or quits, pal! You give me back my powers in their former glory, or the deal’s good as moot.”

“I understand. After the anomaly crisis is over”, said Ford, “I will give you your powers back.”

Bill frowned. “ _After?_ Sounds a whole lot like a loophole to me. How’s about you hand them over right here and now?”

“That would create a weirdness imbalance even greater than what it is now”, Ford explained. “There is no way to tell what that could lead to, and we cannot take the risk of adding more variables to the situation.”

“Hmph. Fair enough”, snorted Bill, though still looking doubtful. “So, just so we’re clear on this: I go out there, I wrap up the monsters into a nice little paradoxical package that’ll hurl the excess energy out of Dodge, things go back to, ugh, _normal_ … and in return, I get back my powers exactly as they were at the peak of Weirdmageddon.”

“Yes. You’re free to do as you please with your powers as soon as this is over.”

Bill snapped his fingers again. “Oh, that reminds me. One more thing, and we’re good to shake on it.”

“What is it?” Ford asked despite knowing full well that Bill’s last demand would be.

“I go free.” Bill approached the man, not letting his gaze wander from his eyes. “The stupid chains, the spell, everything. Gone and gone. Capiche?”

Ford drew breath. Slowly, he nodded. “Right after this crisis, the Blood Chains will be unraveled. I give you my word.”

Bill’s stare was no less intense when a small crinkle of amusement appeared in the corner of his eye. He held out his hand. “Then it’s a –“

“NO!” Stan and Dipper roared in unison.

“Grunkle Ford, don’t do it!” Mabel joined in, soon followed by Pacifica.

“Yeah, this is crazy!”

Before Ford reached for Bill’s hand, he let his gaze travel from his brother to his niece and nephew. “Trust me”, he said quietly.

He could see the protest die in his family’s eyes; because if there was anything that had brought them together, it was trust, however blind it may be.

“Now, I must make one small change”, Ford said, reaching for something tucked under the back of his gun belt before turning back to face Bill.

Bill rolled his eye. “Oh boy, here we go.”

“Do not worry, I’m not willing to compromise our terms. Everything stands as we agreed… However, I am no longer willing to call this arrangement a deal.”

“Oh, really?” the demon asked sarcastically. “And why is that?”

“Don’t you want to reserve it for a more fateful occasion, a contract with an ethereal binding that has unforeseeable consequences far beyond our time? This isn’t worth being called a deal. No, I’d rather call this… a promise.”

In turn, he held out his own hand – Bill’s walking cane was resting across his palm. He’d taken it with him before leaving the house, hoping the demon would notice it was missing and come after the family to reclaim it.

It was the symbol of Bill’s conmanship, and now, if ever, he had the right to carry it.

Bill eyed the cane for a moment before, once again, locking his stare on Ford’s eyes. “A promise, huh?” he said quietly. “Fine by me. As long as you realize that there’s a deal in every word you say, blue flames or not. Every word.”

For some reason, Ford found himself smiling.

“I know.”

The contact of their hands was brief, almost casual; Ford barely realized it had happened before Bill shot towards the ceiling, his arm spread out and flailing the walking cane up and down in wild triumph.

“HAHA! HAHAHAHA! FREEDOM, HERE I COME! EXCUSE ME, FOLKS, I HAVE A YOGA CLASS TO INTERRUPT AND GOOD OLD CHAOS TO WREAK! _LONG LIVE NONSENSE!_ ”

The echo of his laughter lingered in the room long after he’d launched out of the open window towards the nearest weirdness centroid.

“Great uncle Ford”, Dipper started in a panicked manner as soon as Bill was gone. “Please tell me that was a trick! You tricked him into getting himself hurt, so that he’ll learn his lesson, right?”

Ford shook his head. “No, Dipper. The impact transference is real.”

His apprentice looked horrified. “ _What?_ But – no! He – he could literally kill you! I don’t – _why?_ You – you were supposed to oppose him! You said being a hero means fighting back even when –”

“I am no hero, Dipper”, Ford said quietly. “Not anymore. I can no longer sacrifice others or put them in harm’s way for the greater good, not after what happened to Stanley five years ago. I simply cannot bring myself to bear that burden anymore… So I will be the one to take this bullet, should one ever come our way.”

Dipper squeezed his hat as though his head was about to explode. “That’s crazy!” he croaked almost noiselessly. “I’m sorry, but that’s just crazy! He’s not – you don’t have to – not for _him_ _–_ ”

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Ford”, Mabel declared over his brother’s garbled noises. “Unlike this basket case goofball, I’m prepared for the worst! I’ll save you!”

She had defibrillators readied in both hands.

 _“You_ _’re twenty-five years too early for that, Star!_ _”_

Ford choked back a laugh as he could hear Bill’s taunting voice clear as day in his head.

Before he could come up with a proper response to his niece’s plan, his attention was caught by Trevor, who waddled into the room with Soos and Melody in tow.

“Bage!” Trevor announced and spread his arms. “Agagaga. Fank.”

“I don’t think he’s here, trooper”, Soos said as he looked around.

“Heohe”, confirmed Trevor and shook his head forcefully. “Uuu. Ag!”

“Aww, he wants a hug!” Mabel squealed and knelt down. “Come here, munchkin, Auntie Mabel’s got you covered.”

“Did he leave?” asked Melody, giving a sad look at the teacup she was holding. “Darn it. It took me forever to find the jasmine I had packed for him.”

“Do not worry”, Ford told her with a comforting smile. “He’ll be back for another cup before you know it.”

“Well played, Poindexter.”

Dipper stopped his panicking to glance at Stan, who was muttering quietly to himself a little distance away from the others. “What?”

“Guess I’m not the only conman in the family”, said Stan, flashing his nephew a slant smile as he approached him. “T’was no handshake. You don’t shake hands with your palm facing up. Can’t believe that three-sided bunco didn’t catch on to that.” He scratched his chin. “Doesn’t really help that for a second there, I thought those two freaks were actually holding hands. Yeesh.”

Dipper gulped as he watched Bill’s silhouette against the wiggling sky.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“HEY, NERDS! Who here is interested in written treehugger classics? I know _you_ are, Steve! You too, Lockhead, you dumb echo! Well, I’ve got news for ya! There’s a golden collection of everything you need just by the edge of the forest! Self-help, yoga, cultural appropriation 101, the whole show! RIGHT THIS WAY, GUYS, GALS AND OTHER PALS!”

Bill had never felt so free in his life.

“WHAT’S GOING DOWN, PARTY PEOPLE? THIS PLACE, THAT’S WHAT! HEAD RIGHT AHEAD FOR THE BIGGEST RAVE IN TOWN!”

Oh, the liberation in lies!

“Symmetry, you say? WELL, I’VE GOT SYMMETRY FOR YA! TO THE RIGHT, FOLKS!”

The raw, rude power to twist reality on the tip of your tongue and drop the bomb on the unsuspecting suckers below!

“Horse faces? Really? You guys just want horse faces? All right then, horse faces it is! JUST DOWN THIS PATH, AND YOU’LL FIND EVERYTHING YOU NEED!”

The confusion! The OUTRAGE! And _no one_ could hold him accountable!

 _“_ OH, WHAT’S THAT _? DID I LIE TO YOU?_ OH, NO, NOT ME, NOT BILL CIPHER! I WOULDN’T LIE TO YOU, MY FELLOW FREAKS! I’VE GOT THE TRUTH RIGHT HERE IN THE PALM OF MY HAND!”

This was _exhilarating!_

 _“TRUST IN THE ALL-SEEING, ALL-KNOWING EYE!_ _”_

 

* * *

 

 “It worked”, Ford muttered. They could see the weirdness centroids starting to twist and distort as they got closer and closer to another. “By god, he is actually going to make it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Sweet Jiminy.”

Fiddleford gulped as he watched the sky turn into a blinding swirl of colors, a screaming triangular figure circling around it as though conducting the vortex with his cane.

“Ah can’t believe ah’m sayin’ this, but that feller’s just mighta saved us all.”

His nearly forty years’ worth of fear and antipathy was slowly giving way to a small streak of regret.

Meanwhile, Wendy sat back in her robot and put on her favorite pair of shades. “Well, color me booshed.” Her hand made an explosion with a sound effect to match.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“All right then, looks like that’s my cue!” said Bill cheerily to himself as he floated swiftly back from the humming suction the paradox had created. Straightening his bowtie, he inhaled in preparation for his last curtain call.

“SO LONG, AND THANKS FOR ALL THE QUIRKS! You’ve been the best audience I’ve had in years! Until next time, folks! AND REMEMBER: SELL YOUR SOUL FOR ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD! CONTACT YOUR INVESTMENT ADVISOR FOR DETAILS! I’LL BE WAITING! _BYE!_ ”

And with a flash that lit up the sky, the vortex was gone, leaving only the demon and his maniacal laughter behind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Heavy rains fell on the ruins of Gravity Falls as if nothing but a regular thunderstorm had passed through what now looked like a ghost town. Ford didn’t mind; soaked to the bone, he stood in front of Fiddleford’s manor and waited until he could see a familiar golden glow approach through the rainfall.

He greeted the demon with a bright smile. “Bill, you were incredible!” he exclaimed, and laughed out loud when Bill tipped his hat graciously at him, then threw it in the air and caught it with the hook of his cane before it fell.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Sixer!” Bill hollered with a grin that matched Ford’s as he floated closer to the man. “You can start by explaining why I haven’t gotten my powers and freedom back yet! The crisis is over, isn’t it? So chop-chop, I have things to do and places to go! Immortality, see, I’ve got a tight schedule here!”

“Are you joking?” Ford beamed. “I’m not going to give your powers back!”

“Oh, is that so?” Bill circled him with his hands crossed behind his back. “Are you saying you _lied?_ ”

Ford spread his arms and turned around on the spot as he followed Bill with his gaze. “Of course I lied – after all, I am only human! You said it yourself: that is our natural course of action. We lie!”

“HAH! Well, at least you’re being honest to yourself! Nice going, Six! Don’t know why I’d expect anything less from you!”

“But you didn’t”, Ford said, breathless with frolic. “You knew all along, didn’t you? You knew the Blood Chains cannot be unraveled for as long as I live.”

Bill scowled at him in an amused manner. “Well, guess you could say I gave you a chance, Fordsy! If you offer me a mortal promise, that’s just boring! But if you’re bold enough to make an _impossible_ promise? _That_ _’s_ impressive, my friend, and worth a little gamble!”

“None of what you said makes any sense”, Ford laughed. “It’s all madness!”

“As it should be!”

The rest of the family, who were busy helping Wendy and the others down from their robots, could hear their rowdy laughter all the way to the yard. Pacifica rolled her finger next to her temple and looked meaningfully at Dipper, who couldn’t seem to decide whether to be more relieved or uncomfortable at the sound of the demon and his great uncle’s joined triumph.

Eventually, the rain became lighter and the two made their way to the family, still cackling together for a reason no one else could understand.

Dipper ran to his mentor immediately. “Great uncle Ford, are you alright? Any phantom pains? He didn’t –“

“No”, said Ford as he looked at Bill, “he didn’t.”

“Not yet”, Bill smirked. “Unlike _this_ genius, I’m not in the habit of breaking promises, and this one’s a keeper for sure! I said I’ll make him know pain, but I didn’t say _when!_ Gives you a little surprise element to look forward to, right, Fordsy? Makes your future that much more unpredictable! You should be thanking me here!”

“You’ll have plenty of time to carry out that promise”, Ford assured.

Dipper grimaced a bit. “You are way too calm about this, Great uncle Ford. Are you sure he didn’t give you a brain damage when you weren’t looking…?”

The man laughed. “Dipper, I am perfectly fine. I think so, at the very least”, he added as if thoughtfully, then grinned again. “Now, now, I’m just fooling around with you. There is no need to worry.”

“Or is there?” Bill put in, tapping the corner of his eye knowingly.

“Bill, the joke is growing old.”

“Ha, you’re one to talk!”

Amidst the joyful banter and murmur that soon filled the yard as the townspeople gathered around, Mabel found Stan hanging quietly in the back, eyes betraying his unsureness as they flitted from one group of people to another. For a moment, she hesitated; then she clenched her fists and walked up to him.

“Grunkle Stan, you did it again!” she said with an admiring whoop.

“Huh?” Stan turned to look at her. “Did what?”

“You saved the world!” Mabel rejoiced. “For the second time! You’re not just a hero, you’re a – a _superhero!_ ”

Stan blinked, looking even more confused, even suspicious. When the girl’s grin didn’t waver, he cautiously returned it. “Ya think so, kid? Thanks. I, uh… Guess I did save the world again. I don’t really… Eh, doesn’t matter. I’ll take your word for it. Wait, why aren’t these hicks carrying me on their shoulders or something?”

“You told them not to”, Mabel told him confidently. “Because of your bad back, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, well… A hero needs his personal space, right?”

“Exactly”, Mabel nodded firmly. “And you didn’t hear this from me, but there’s been talk of a surprise party for you once the town is back in business. So remember to act surprised when that happens, okay?”

Stan patted her head with a grateful smile. “Sure, I’ll… remember, heh.”

Dipper, who had heard the conversation, approached his sister as she was about to run back to her friends. “Mabel”, he said in a wary tone, “what was that? I thought you were fundamentally against lying.”

Mabel averted her eyes. “He’s gonna forget anyway, so where’s the harm?” she muttered bitterly. “Just let him be happy and proud for a moment.”

Ford had finally noticed his secluded brother as well; but as he turned to Bill to tell him he’d be right back, he noticed the demon was barely able to keep himself afloat.

“Bill?” he was immediately by his side. “Are you alright?”

“Stupid weakling fleshcage”, Bill muttered and tapped his surface dully with the palm of his hand. “Guess this thing needs recharging after all that high-altitude skylark.”

“Hold on to me.” Ford folded his arms so Bill could rest on them. “I’ve got you.”

Bill slumped on his arms without further objection. “Sure, whatever.”

“Be-el!” Trevor was running towards them across the yard on his tiny feet.

“Hey, Chico!” Bill reached to tip his hat at the child. “I see you’re finally starting to get my name right! So what’s the word on the street, champ?”

Trevor stopped and shuffled his feet. It looked like he was contemplating his answer.

Then his face lit up, and he yelled from the bottom of his tiny lungs: “FUCK!”

The crowd around him gasped.

Soos, who was standing a few steps away with his wife, seemed to blank out for a moment. “He… he said ‘fank’, right?” he asked monotonously, while Melody’s face twisted and turned red with held back laughter.

“MA-A-FUCK!” Trevor insisted for good measure.

There was a loud _thump_ as Soos fainted and fell straight on his back, then another _thump_ as Melody fell on her knees next to her unconscious husband, nearly choking with cachinnation.

“Hey, the kid _did_ learn after all!” Stan beamed. “Guess my work here is done!”

As Ford was trying to decide whether to join Bill and the others in laughter or take the approach of a responsible adult, he could see Fiddleford limping nervously towards him. He was glad to notice the mechanic was no longer hamboning uncontrollably.

“Ah’ been a fool, Stanford”, Fiddleford said in a quiet voice. “A big ol’ fool. An’ ah reckon this time it’s m’turn t’ask fer yer forgiveness, old friend.”

Ford wanted to put his hand on Fiddleford’s shoulder, but then he realized his both arms were occupied. He settled for smiling sadly. “I don’t blame you in the slightest. I cannot even imagine how many hardships my dealings with Bill have caused you. Once again, I, too, owe you an apology.”

Fiddleford smiled back, although it wavered when his eyes slid down to the demon verging on falling asleep in Ford’s arms.

“He is here to stay, Fiddleford”, Ford said firmly. “I know how you feel, but you must accept it. He’s family now.”

“Not yet”, said Fiddleford, squeezing his hat. “Me and him ain’t there just yet, pardner. Ah don’t trust’m and ne’er will, but ah do trust y’all. And don’tcha worry ‘bout me – ah’m not yer family, just an ol’ fool of a friend, git?”

“Seeing how we stand here after both of us having pointed a gun at each other, I cannot think of you as anything other than family”, Ford assured warmly. “This is a bond beyond friendship. My life would not be the same without you.”

“I hear ya”, Fiddleford grinned. “An’ as long as ah don’t hafta live in the same house with the triangle, ah take yer words to the heart.”

Mabel was watching them from the side with stars in her eyes, leaning her chin on Pacifica’s shoulder. “Aw, look at them”, she said dreamily. “All being friends after everything that’s happened.”

Pacifica gave her an incredulous look. “Really? _You_ of all people think _that_ –“ she tucked her thumb at Bill and Ford, “– is friendship?”

Mabel frowned. “Of course they’re friends, don’t you see? Sure, it started off a little rocky, but they’ve gotten so much closer over the past year. They share a room, and talk science, and tell jokes and drink the same tea, and one time I even saw them dancing… And Grunkle Ford was heartbroken when he had to leave Bill behind, but look how happy they are now that they’re back together!”

“Yeah”, Pacifica said slowly and squiggled out of Mabel’s hold. “Okay, I’m just gonna leave you here to listen to yourself for a while.”

“What? Paci”, Mabel tried, but the other girl lifted up the collar of her coat and walked away – she’d spotted her parents in the crowd, and didn’t want to be spotted by them just yet.

Mabel turned back to her great uncle with a puzzled frown and watched Bill’s grip on his cane gradually loosening as he drifted off to sleep; but Ford caught it before it fell down and placed it gently back on the demon’s lap, six fingertips lingering on the golden surface for a fleeting second before retreating.

And slowly – finally – the girl’s eyes went wide.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Ford was back in his dimly lit room, Bill had rested off the worst part of his exhaustion, and his eye was half open as the man let him down on his bed.

“Hold the phone, smart guy.”

Ford was halted by Bill’s words before he could straighten up, so instead, he sat down on the bed next to him.

“What is it?” he asked, and was surprised to find black hands cupping his cheeks.

His eyes closed instinctively as he was drawn closer to the demon, so close he could feel his lashes curl against his face.

Nothing happened.

At least full two minutes passed before Bill let go of his face and crossed his hands on his surface, now looking a little bored.

“Bill?” Ford asked unsurely as he straightened his back.

“Never mind. Just a little experiment to prove a point”, Bill muttered with a vague swish of his hand.

“What point?”

“That I make everything happen, Sixer. Nothing ever happens unless I take the wheel.”

“That’s absurd”, said Ford with a confused frown.

“Is it? Well, what was that just now but a whole lotta nothing?”

“Well, I was waiting for you to… You always make the first move, I wouldn’t want to…” The man cleared his throat. “Bill, did you _want_ me to… Because I’d be glad to –”

“Back off, nerd. That ship sailed.”

“Oh… All right.”

He still had business to finish downstairs before he could call it a day, but right now, it didn’t feel very urgent; so he lay down next to Bill.

“I know you think poorly of regular mortal promises”, he said. “Regardless, I will sincerely promise you this much. I will not use the Blood Chains to restrain you on an arbitrary basis ever again.”

“Aw, gee. No more tyrannical deprivation of liberty. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”

“Well, you did save said planet.” Ford smiled a bit. “It is the least I can do.”

He closed his eyes, taking in the comfortable silence in the room.

The superanomaly crisis was over… It was truly over, and they had won.

But after a moment, he was alerted by the sensation of Bill’s fingers squeezing his arm in a strained manner. He glanced next to him to see a terror-stricken glaze in the demon’s eye.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why in fresh hell does it keep coming back?” Bill whispered.

Ford bit back the question that rose to his lips. He understood; for someone who had lived every existing moment simultaneously for one trillion years, reliving a memory in a physical body that was able to recall pain in itself must’ve been something beyond terrifying.

“I cannot do anything to make it go away”, he said quietly, “but I will stay with you until it does.”

“Oh, you will”, came the choked answer that almost verged on a threat.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the help of Fiddleford’s robots, reconstructing the destroyed parts of the town went surprisingly smoothly; this being the second time Gravity Falls had to be rebuilt after a supernatural crisis provided its own helpful experience, despite the farmers’ complaints over their dairy getting sour due to the mechanical clamor getting slightly tedious towards the end. Fortunately Mayor Cutebiker’s overflowing enthusiasm to restore the fiscal and infrastructural long-term stability was rather contagious, and it kept everyone’s spirits lifted throughout the noisy construction work.

The Mystery Shack had, once again, been mostly spared from destruction – save for the guesthouse. Seeing the ruins drove Stan into a state of vocal despair, which then turned into blind, fist-flinging rage as he somehow came to the conclusion that this was Bill’s doing all over again. The old man had to be held still for a long while to calm down, and what eventually followed was grumpy, broken silence.

Ford couldn’t take it; and as unwilling as he was to benefit from Fiddleford’s remorse, he now found himself grateful for the fact that he had a genius mechanic friend who was more than willing to make amends for his hostility during the past summer.

Stan was overjoyed to see his inland ship quickly coming back together, but there was always room for some retroactive snark. “Wait, why didn’t we ask McGucket to build the house for us in the first place?”

“Fiddleford’s builder robots can only reconstruct something that has already been built”, Ford explained with a smile. “As technically advanced as they are, they cannot calculate the variables that come with simply following a blueprint. There is a different kind of genius in creating something you’ve only envisioned in your mind. That is all you, Stanley.”

Stan grunted dismissively in response, but couldn’t hide the gratitude in his eyes as he gave his twin a swift side glance when he wasn’t looking.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Time flew by, and before they knew it, it was the day of Dipper and Mabel’s eighteenth birthday. Mabel had firmly decided that their childhood would “go out with a bang”, which, to Ford’s relief, was less needlessly violent than it sounded and simply meant inviting half the town to a big, eventful birthday party.

As the crowds started gathering around the Mystery Shack, Stan snatched his old fez off Soos’ head and used the opportunity to force people into buying _“I survived the apocalypse twice_ _”_ merchandise. No one was exactly surprised to see the townspeople eagerly buying the same shirt they’d already bought after Weirdmageddon, only with the word “twice” added in clumsy marker writing, and Stan’s leftover stock from five years ago (his sales had dropped after the Never Mind All That act had come into effect) was successfully sold out within an hour.

As soon as there was no more market niche, Stan got quickly bored of the townsfolks’ noise and retreated into the guesthouse for the rest of the day. The other elders in the house followed his example: Abuelita, whom they’d found sleeping in her chair as though nothing had happened, banned the partygoers from the house in favor of her and her grandson’s afternoon nap, and Ford found a nice, quiet place next to Bill on the rooftop where they had once gazed the stars together. They didn’t speak much; there was no need to.

But as the dusk started to settle and the lanterns they’d hung across the yard lit up one by one, Ford felt something deep in his chest trying to crawl its way out. It got more restless, more persistent, until it was verging on insufferable. He told Bill quietly he’d be back soon, climbed down the ladder and sought the youth from amidst the crowd.

“Mabel?”

The girl turned around at his quiet call, her glowing smile competing with the lanterns around them.

“Hey, Grunkle Ford!” she whooped. “Perfect timing! Guess what’s up next on the party script?” She flailed a glittery paper in front of Ford’s nose. “The big Pines family singalong! That means karaoke! From atop the roof! Are you there or are you square?”

Ford smiled weakly. “I apologize for disrupting your birthday celebration, but could I borrow you for a moment? I need to talk to you in private.”

“Yeah, of course”, Mabel nodded, and an expectant grin split her face in half. “Is this a birthday surprise? Do we need Dipper too? He just had his first beer and couldn’t handle it, but I think he’s done throwing up his guts that technically could be gummy worms just about –”

“I’m sorry, Mabel… I will be sure to prepare a proper birthday surprise for you two. But now… I can only ask you to come with me.”

By then, Mabel seemed to have caught that restless something in his eyes, because she excused herself from her friends’ company without further ado. She followed Ford quietly to the edge of the forest, and when the man turned around, her arms were already spread in a comforting manner.

“Come here, you big softie”, she said with a sad smile.

That was all Ford needed to hear. He fell on his knees and lost all control over his emotions as the girl pulled him into a tight embrace.

He soon lost track of just how long he cried against her shoulder, and the names he tried to choke into the knitted fabric were jumbled together until he couldn’t tell whom he was most afraid of losing.

“It was just a false alarm, right?” he could hear Mabel say softly some time after his shoulders had finally stopped shaking. Reluctantly, he let go of the girl and allowed her to dry the tears stuck under the rim of his glasses with her sleeve.

“How many more false alarms must I still bear?” he asked, his voice broken and no louder than a whisper. When there was no response, he drew a deep breath. “I’m so terribly sorry, Mabel… I should’ve never allowed myself to fall apart on you like this, least of all on your special day. You are still so young…”

“Grunkle Ford, don’t be silly”, said Mabel, sounding a little offended. “What is it with you and Dipper always insisting on keeping things to yourselves? I’m not made of fine china, I can handle it!” She flexed both of her arms with a determined frown. “Mabel is a force of nature!”

Ford smiled. “Well… That is true. I have never quite understood how you manage to keep your glow as magical as ever through every cataclysm and terror you’ve been faced with. I suppose I’ll never find out.”

“Speaking of finding out…” Mabel shuffled her feet. “You know… There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, since Dipper won’t tell me anything.”

Ford knew; he’d expected her to confront him on the issue for some time now. “Let me hear what is troubling you”, he encouraged her either way.

“I want to hear what had happened in the other dimension”, said Mabel. “I heard the evil Grunkle Ford’s last words, so I know it had something to do with me. I mean, I’m not stupid, I…” The stern look in her eyes wavered. “I think the other me was probably…” She averted her gaze for a moment before looking up at Ford again. “And that’s just why I want to hear the whole story. Can you please tell me? I know you guys are just trying to protect me, but I really hate it when you leave me out of things.”

“No, you have the right to know the truth.” Ford swallowed his hesitation and smiled cautiously. “Have a seat. I will tell you everything, but you must understand that it is a truly devastating chain of events, one with little to no hope, and unjust beyond our comprehension. If at any point the story becomes too heavy to listen to, I want you to stop me at once.”

Mabel crossed her legs and sat down next to him. “Okay.”

“The downfall of my other self”, Ford started slowly, “began at what was, without a doubt, the darkest hour of Weirdmageddon.“

After his story was done, he watched in regretful silence as his niece wiped tears off her cheeks. Strangely enough, his own heart felt lighter; sharing the burden he’d been forced to carry alone was clearly a relief to himself, but the look of shock on Mabel’s face made him wonder if the price for his peace had been too high after all.

“Are you alright?” he asked warily.

Mabel sniffled. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thank you for telling me, Grunkle Ford. I just…” She buried her face into the collar of her sweater. “The other you, and Dipper… and Grunkle Stan, it’s… just too cruel… All because I was…”

“That is the most important part of this, Mabel.”

The girl peeked out of her collar. “What is?”

“Don’t you see?” the man asked gently. “That dreadful dimension is not our reality. All that matters is right here, within our own reach. Think of it this way… In this timeline, you have saved each and every one of us simply by being there. We mustn’t let ourselves be crushed under the weight of every freak of fate and faraway reality it gives birth to. What matters… is the here and now.”

“Thanks.” Mabel let out a small, tearful laugh as she pulled her turtleneck collar back down. “Although that won’t exactly make leaving for college any easier.”

Ford cleared his throat. “That is purely a question of proper arrangements”, he said in a firm tone of voice. “Your presence is vital for everyone in this family. Rest assured, Stanley and I will have it so that you can visit every month.”

“Ha! Every month?” Mabel giggled. “Make it every weekend!”

Ford snorted. “Mabel, that’s… nearly impossible.”

“I’ll find a way!” the girl enthused. “I happen to have a secret talent in the art of blackmail, and I’ve got heaps of dirt on Pacifica from her stuck-up rich girl bully days. Oh, what’s that? A weekly private jet flight in exchange for saving your face? Easy peacy! Also, I could probably duel the invisible wizard –”

“Please”, Ford laughed. “There must be plenty of other options that don’t require dueling a wizard.”

“But I want to!” Mabel joined him in a hearty laughter before kicking her legs straight on the ground and nudging him gently on the side. “But really, I’ll be fine. Honestly, I’m more worried about Dipper, since he has to live with Bill from now on. But you’re here, too, so it’s gonna be fine.” Suddenly, she grinned and squealed a little.

Ford cocked an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Haha, nothing.” Mabel chucked an elbow at him again. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

Ford smiled. "Mabel…" He felt like he could guess what the girl meant – it was no wonder, and he’d always somewhat known she’d figure it out sooner or later – but it was probably best not to address it unless she asked him directly.

Mabel wiggled her toes, any signs of her earlier grief gone without a trace. “So!” she uttered. “About that birthday surprise. You don’t have to say anything, but is it gonna involve a third magnet gun with the initials M.P. carved on it? Was that blink a yes? Oh, was _that_ blink a ‘yes, it was a yes’ or just another yes?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t until Ford was sitting in a small boat next to his brother with a fishing rod in his hands that he realized how dearly he had needed his talk with Mabel. Had he not let out the storm of emotions that had consumed him for weeks, he would’ve surely been unable to bear the strained silence between Stan and himself now. His heart was still heavy as lead… but now, at the very least, he could speak up without breaking down.

“What will I be without you?”

The fears that had dwelled within him ever since Stan’s condition had come to light finally took the form of a question that left a dull echo around the two of them.

It was as though he’d only spoken to himself. Stan showed no sign of having even heard the question, and yet the shadows under his eyes proved otherwise.

The silence continued for another long while.

“Eh, you’ll be fine.”

Ford couldn’t bring himself to look at his twin as he finally got his answer.

“I mean”, Stan continued, “you’ve got your overdressed napkin to keep you company until it’s your turn to drop, right? You won’t be needing me with that little shit floating around.”

“But Stanley…” At last, Ford threw a cautious glance at his fishing buddy. “You told me… You said he brings out the worst in me.”

“Did I?” Stan shrugged. “Can’t remember.”

Yet another silence followed, during which Stan reeled in his fishing hook to see his bait had been nibbled off.

Once the sinker was bobbing along with the small waves again, he said: “And anyway… We’re not exactly the dynamic duo we used to be as kids, are we?”

Ford stared at the red tip of his own sinker, unable to find words to disprove the stinging truth in Stan’s words.

“It’s been fifty years, pal. We can’t just go back to being thick as thieves after all that time, that’s just the way it is. But it’s not all bad, either… You’ve had your life and I’ve had mine. Can’t speak for you, of course, but at this point, I’ve got no complaints about the way I’ve gone about my business.”

“Nevertheless…” Ford began unsurely. “To me, you are a vital part of myself –“

Stan raised his hand. “All right, let me stop you right there. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t wanna be an extension of your damn ego, okay? I’m my own man.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. See, looking at our history, it’d be real easy to say you’ve been grinding the gears of my life all along. Right from learning to take a punch for you, to that stupid slip with your science gadget, and then the mother of all fuckups with the portal… See, it’s real easy to say I’ve spent my whole life trying to make amends for not being able to keep up with you. Well, I’m done seeing it that way. Everything I did, I did for myself. You don’t define me, Stanford, and I for damn sure don’t define you.”

For a fleeting moment, Ford’s thoughts drifted off to Bill. _Without Bill Cipher, there is no Stanford Pines._ Did Bill define him? Did he have any sense of self left to speak of that wasn’t somehow connected to the demon he had once called his muse, his friend, his enemy… and now, his…?

Stan’s gravelly voice brought him back to the present. “I really tried to rekindle with you on that ship, y’know. Tried real hard, remember?”

Ford found a smile on his lips as he thought back on their first week on the Stan-O-War II. “Yes, I remember.” He’d truly enjoyed comparing his criminal record with that of Stanley’s, albeit his being interdimensional and Stan’s international, that had at times built up into a childish competition.

“Yeah, t’was fun”, Stan said with a small laugh. “Not enough for you, though. Hey, not trying to dump the blame on you or anything”, he then added quickly as he saw Ford’s nostalgic smile flicker out. “I’m just stating the fact we both know here. Sailing in cahoots was good and all, but you had other plans. You always do.”

“That… was purely circumstantial”, Ford tried, knowing fully well there was very little truth in his retort.

Stan knew, too. “I’ve got two words for ya: bull and shit.”

“That only makes sense as a singular word.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Sixer. Your know-it-all backtalk is taking the edge off my grumpy charm.”

Ford glanced at his brother with a slant smile, but said nothing.

After another long silence, Stan let out a hoarse sigh. “Guess what I’m trying to say is… I couldn’t care less about what happens after I cash in my chips. Throw my corpse into the bottomless pit if you want, I don’t really give a shit. That might actually be the best way to avoid all the nasty paperwork that comes with the big bye-bye of a professional conman, heh. Yeah, that’s gonna be on you, bro… I’ll be damned if I start worrying about that on top of everything else I’ve got on my plate.”

“I promise to take care of everything. That being said, you should write a will”, Ford suggested cautiously. “While you still can.”

“Yeah, I’m working on it. First I gotta find a lawyer shady enough to work in some important details. I’m not gonna let my old dealings affect the future of the kids… They’ll be sure to get every penny, no matter if I earned it or stole it.”

“You know, Stanley…” Ford wondered out loud. “During the superanomaly crisis, I realized something important. All my life, I have been trying to find the solution to whatever problem I was facing by following stated rules and laws, searching for patterns and living by them, cracking the code… But once again, all the final solution to the crisis required was that I do something wrong. I suppose I understand your reckless mode of operation a little better now… as well as Bill’s.”

“Hah”, Stan snorted in an approving manner. “Good on you, Six. But do me a solid and never put me on the same level with that bastard again. I might’ve made my share of bad deals, but nothing I’ve done comes even close to that guy.”

Stan’s muttering stirred something in Ford’s memory.

“Stanley”, he started slowly, “I apologize for harking to something entirely different, but have you ever made business with a man named John Smith?”

“What, you mean the actor? Nope, can’t say I have. Hasn’t he been pushing up daisies for a couple of decades now?”

It was impossible for Ford to tell if Stan was avoiding the question or if he simply couldn’t remember. And as his sinker suddenly submerged underneath the waves, he made a quick decision to finish this discussion at a later time.

“Hah, finally some haul!” Stan was up on his feet in an instant, swaying the boat as he cheered his brother on. “Keep the line tight, Poindexter, don’t let it get away! It’s a big one, too! Hah, _that_ _’s_ my twin brother!”

Ford laughed with him; and just for a moment, there were no decades to separate them from each other or the two brothers racing the shores of New Jersey.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Ford felt strangely content yet saddened as he walked up the stairs to his room. Instead of the usual hassle with the bus ride, the whole family had joined in driving Mabel to the nearest airport, where she was to take off to her new college a few days before her studies would begin. She had cried the entire time, and clung onto her brother and grunkles with such persistence that eventually Soos had had to carry her past the checkout on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go.” Those had been the last words she’d whispered in Ford’s ear before she was taken to board the plane.

At the very least, she had waved and smiled bravely before disappearing into the crowd, but Ford couldn’t help but feel uneasy over her hesitation. The family would give her a group call the very next day, but he decided to contact her privately and ask her if she was alright. After their heart-to-heart on the twins’ birthday, the old researcher felt as though it was his duty to make sure Mabel would not take after the rest of the Pines and start bottling up her feelings in her new, foreign environment.

About halfway up the staircase, something made him stop still and listen.

His ears had caught a few stray notes of music.

As he made his way upstairs, he found Bill sitting in the corner of his room, leaning his back against the wall and looking uncharacteristically relaxed. An old vinyl record – one from the collection Stanley had inherited under Ford’s name when their mother had passed twelve years ago –  was playing in the background.

“I never realized you enjoy music”, Ford said as he sat down beside Bill.

“I play the piano”, Bill noted half-heartedly. “I even sang you a little tune back in the day, Stanford. Did that beautiful little moment we shared just fly over your head, or were the dots too difficult for your genius brain to connect?”

“Well, I – you’re right”, Ford laughed. “I apologize. It’s quite a fascinating contradiction, that is all.”

Bill glanced at him. “What is?”

“To my understanding, music is, well… a quest for harmony. That is to say, the closest humanity has ever gotten to it. Which, admittedly, is still very far away.”

“And how would _you_ know how far it is? Did you just surpass humanity one day behind my back?”

Ford coughed. “Not… behind your back, no.”

“Oh.”

“This is still rather difficult for me to grasp”, Ford hurried to add, trying his best to revoke the uncomfortable silence threatening to fall between them. “I have not acquired any particular new knowledge, per se. However, I now see… the depth of knowledge. It feels as though I am trapped in complete darkness, unable to see anything around me… Yet I know exactly how far into the distance that darkness extends, and I know where it ends.”

“Oh yeah?” Bill raised his brow without a hint of sarcasm. “And how’s that make you feel?”

“Dizzy.” Ford fought down a shiver. “Small, paralyzed… and powerless.”

Bill let out a short laugh that was more a huff of frustration. “Well then, welcome to the deep sea, Fordsy.”

“Do you… feel that way as well?”

“Me? I used to be the all-seeing eye. Things are less murky when you see everything! Well, guess the lights are out for good now, thanks to you and your meddling family!”

“But Bill”, Ford tried, “surely the knowledge you used to possess hasn’t gone anywhere. You store it as units of data, do you not?”

“Yeah, that’s the issue”, Bill answered in a dull tone. “Units. Can’t do a whole lot with units when the links between them keep getting more and more scrambled with every passing day, now can ya? Don’t get me wrong – watching madness grow exponentially inside your own mind, hah, now that’s what I call entertainment! But to be frank with you, Fordsy, I don’t think I can hold my charming personality together for an infinite amount of time in this crossfire! At least it sounds like I’ve got company in you for the next twenty-five years, my little mortal friend! Except your meatbag will shut down before the insanity shuts _you_ down! It’s cold comfort, sure, but still better than –“¨

“Bill, stop.”

“What?” Bill flared up. “I’m just being real with you, pal! Isn’t that what you wanted? To see eye to eye with me?”

“No. This isn’t what I meant”, Ford said firmly. “I will not let your childish nihilism take a hold of us both.”

“ _Childish?_ Excuse you –“

“You heard me right. You’re being childish and self-centered”, the man continued as he reached for Bill’s hand but saw it best to stop halfway and, instead, simply placed his own hand near the demon’s. “And for once, I want you to listen to me.”

Bill squinted and crossed his arms, staring stubbornly ahead. “Or _what?_ ”

“No, none of that now.” Ford sighed. “Please understand that I am not trying to disparage you. But now that I have a better grasp on where you’re coming from, I have also come to see how poorly you’ve adapted to living in the physical world. And I want you to know this.” Ford held a pause until their eyes met again. “Your mind will not deteriorate. I won’t let that happen.”

Bill didn’t look convinced. “Oh, really? And how’re you planning to go about that?”

“That, I believe”, Ford smiled, “is up to you.”

“Look, that riddlespeak is real cute and all, but if you think I’m gonna play guessing games with you –“

Ford held back a small burst of laughter. “All right, I apologize. In fact, what I’m suggesting is the opposite of a guessing game. Allow me to explain.” He was quiet for a moment. “As I am sure you know, knowledge and individuality don’t go well together. The more you know, the more you are forced to question yourself. The further you reach beyond the direct consequences of your actions into what could be… the more it shatters your sense of self.”

“Uh-huh”, Bill admitted. “Well, I’ve done pretty good so far, don’t ya think?”

“That is true”, Ford nodded with a smile. “I cannot help but admire your willpower – it is enviable, even. However… In a world with limits, you cannot survive with perseverance alone. You must find your own place within those limits, and learn to abide by them.”

“So what you’re saying is”, Bill said in a fed up tone, “I need to learn to heed and obey. Is that your great advice?”

Ford shook his head. “Not quite, no. You see… I know it must be difficult for you to understand, giving your immortality, but a mortal life isn’t merely an unending fight for freedom. That is because our time here is limited. Our lives are here, within the boundaries of our own world… Not somewhere out there beyond time and space, waiting to start once we break free.”

“Huh.” The demon crossed his arms in a thoughtful manner. “Go on…”

Ford swallowed his surprise at the sight of Bill actually considering his words for once, and continued. “The way you are now, you cannot maintain your supertemporal knowledge. In order to stop that knowledge from losing all meaning, you must turn it into _contemporary_ knowledge. Do you know how to do that?”

“You’re patronizing me”, Bill muttered bitterly. “Just spill out your grand idea, Brainiac, so I can turn it down and sneer at your ignorance like nature always meant us to mingle.”

Ford smiled. “Well, I thought you might be able to figure out the answer yourself, seeing how it was always in the question to begin with.”

“ _Just spill it,_ you smug idiot!”

“Contemporary”, said Ford. “A shared time, a shared existence… shared knowledge. Once you make the units of data a part of the world around you, your mind will be able to create new connections, new contexts. Granted, it will not be the same as before… But it will keep your mind and identity from becoming corrupted.”

“ _That_ _’s_ your solution?” Bill rolled his eye. “Oh, I see what’s going on here. You just want to have your slice of omniscience, don’t you? After all these years, you’re still greedy as ever!”

“This isn’t about me, Bill”, Ford assured. “This is exactly what I meant by calling you childish. Why keep all that knowledge bottled up inside? Why not give up the riddles for once, and tell me the whole truth?”

“The truth? _The truth?_ You can’t handle the truth, you arrogant meatbaby!”

“Perhaps not”, the man admitted. “But I don’t recall you ever concerning yourself with my psychological wellbeing.”

“Beside the point”, Bill barked. “I know exactly what you’re trying to pull here. You’re trying to _domesticate_ me, aren’tcha? You told me you wouldn’t use the chains anymore, well, this is just another way of chaining me down, isn’t it? Sure, _your_ mortal time is limited, but _I_ still have an eternity ahead of me after this crapshow is over, thank you very much, and I’m not planning to root the foundation of my entire existence in this tiny, shabby realm of yours! So forget it!”

A silence fell.

“Would you rather have your mind fall apart?”

No answer.

“We know what awaits you at this rate”, Ford pressed on. “But if you share what you know, there is no way to tell what will come of it.”

Still no answer; but he could see Bill’s brow burrowing deeper.

“The truth be told, your persistence on holding your tongue seems rather… deliberate.”

At last, Bill threw a glance at him. “What?”

“Well, it appears as though you’re narrowing your own options by keeping everything to yourself”, Ford explained with a daring hint of a smile. “If you remain silent, everything will stay the same. But if you share your knowledge with me – and prove your intellectual superiority, if you will… Who knows what could happen. The more variables we create with our own actions, the more potential for change there is… The more alternatives constantly branching into new timelines of their own. Is that not the entropy of fate you strive for?”

Bill stared. Then he burst into laughter – an oddly relieved, cheerfully ringing laughter with only a shade of his usual mania mixed in.

“Well played, Sixer”, the triangle sighed as his laughing had ceased. “Well played. You’re learning to think outside the mortal box. I can respect that.”

Ford blinked. “You… respect me?”

“Ha! As if. Not yet, anyway.” Bill patted the back of his hand absent-mindedly. “Join your favorite retired all-seeing eye for another quarter century, and then we’ll talk.” His hand remained where it was. “So, where do we start? I can’t just drop the full package of my compromised omniscience on you, y’know! Give me some of that mortal context you were flaunting earlier!”

Ford had an answer ready. “The unified theory of weirdness.”

“Sure, I’ve heard of it”, Bill smirked.

“I am considering starting over my research, but it must be thoroughly revised right from the very fundamentals. Correct me if I’m wrong – back in Fiddleford’s manor, I got the impression that although you knew of the dispersive nature of weirdness, even you were not aware of all the different elements of said nature, and how those elements balance each other respectively. This work would not only be me finding use for your knowledge… We would discover an entirely new truth together.” The man’s eyes met the demon’s. “Will you help me finish what we once started, as partners then, and as partners now?”

“Well…” Bill said, stretching the word as though considering his options, then shrugged. “Since I’ve got nothing better to do, I might as well kill some time by blowing your little mortal mind away!” He straightened his position. “Now then – weirdness! We’re talking primal energies here, so let me take you right back to the good old big bang and the birth of the Multiverse…”

He began to talk, and Ford found himself hypnotized with every word.

His mind was soon trapped in worlds barely within the reach of his comprehension; but even so, he was strangely aware of the very much contemporary sensation telling him that somewhere along the line, Bill’s fingers had intertwined with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd that's it for Arc II - I hope you've enjoyed it to the fullest! I'm going to take a small break from Blood Chains and focus on my other writing projects and improving my art skills for a couple of months, so expect the next chapter (which will be the second winterlude) some time in September. c:
> 
> Thank you so much for having taken this journey with me this far! <3 It's been incredible beyond words, and I hope we can keep it up right until the end. One more arc to go!


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